


Let Me Take Care Of You

by ABSedarian



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, season 3 fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABSedarian/pseuds/ABSedarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I would just really, really like to protect you for a change, you know," Brittany whispered. Brittana, post outing. How Season 3 should have gone. Small side dish of Faberry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot and turned into this 50k+ epic. Well, apparently Santana and Brittany disagreed with my attempt at brevity.  
> A/N 2: Originally posted on ff.net and I'm now finally dragging it over here.
> 
> Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Glee. I'm just taking the girls out for a ride and promise to bring them back relatively unharmed (and probably happier and more satisfied than on the show).

Santana walked through the quiet hallway of McKinley High School. It was late and the school was empty, as empty as she’d ever seen it. They had finished the mash-up several hours ago, but Santana could still feel the tingling in her fingers where she had slapped Finn. 

\--- 

_She was still mad at him, but what was even worse was that she felt incredibly helpless and out of control. She had run out of the auditorium, not even taking in the shocked faces around her, and had headed straight for the Cheerios locker room, only to turn away from it and head to an empty classroom. She knew Brittany would follow her to the locker room, but she couldn’t deal with anyone right now, not even her girlfriend. She needed space._

_So she curled up in a corner of Mr. Calloway’s empty history classroom, trying to just fade into the walls. For a while she listened to the sounds of the school around her, listened as the New Directions and The Troubletones walked from the auditorium towards their lockers and then on home. She listened to the voices of her Troubletones who were at least pretending to be looking for her, and she listened to Brittany’s voice which got more concerned the longer Santana stayed hidden._

_She wondered how the teachers would react to her slapping the crap out of Finn. Mr. Schue at least knew what had happened, but she wasn’t sure what he had told Ms. Corcoran about her situation. All she knew was that Finn the Douchebag was probably going to run to the principal and demand she be punished for hitting him, which was just so damn unfair. He had deserved it, hell, he would have deserved so much more than that measly little slap._

_She spent a few minutes imagining all the things she should have done to Dough Boy before realizing that it really didn’t get her anywhere, no matter how … relaxing it was. When she was done tarring and feathering him in her mind, she noticed that the school was finally completely quiet. She swallowed thickly, emotions bubbling to the surface faster than she could deal with them, and she didn’t do emotions anyway because they just fuckin’ hurt all the damn time. She couldn’t even tell what she was feeling and that sure as fuck didn’t help. A part of her was relieved that she was alone, finally, but there was also a tiny part that was a little bit disappointed that none of the others had bothered enough to keep looking for her. Not even her girlfriend. In the end, she just let the tears roll down her face in mascara-black rivulets._

_After a few minutes, hours, or years – she really couldn’t be bothered to check – her brain began working, quite without her conscious consent, and her tears stopped. She had to figure out what to do, how to get out of this completely fucked situation. She could, of course, always deny everything, but the thought of giving up her new relationship with Brittany hurt almost worse than seeing that stupid campaign video. So that was out._

_She had slowly been edging towards telling her parents anyway, mostly because she and Brittany couldn’t be around each other without touching these days, and sooner or later someone in her family would notice, no matter how self-absorbed and busy they were. She simply had no idea how to do it or how her parents would react, no matter how progressive they thought they were. They had been shocked but compassionate when she had told them about Quinn’s pregnancy, so they weren’t totally heartless, but it was probably different when it’s your own kid._

_She decided to run scenarios in her mind, like she did before Cheerios competitions. It was always best to be prepared._

_One – best-case scenario: they haven’t seen the campaign ad yet and I can tell them. They are understanding and still love me and want me to be happy, which is why they won’t mind Britt being around all the time, as long as we keep the door open. No problem. She winced at how unrealistic and fairy-tale like it sounded._

_Two – worst-case scenario: I come home and they’ve already seen the ad. They confront me, I confess my undying love for Britt, and they throw me out. Would they even let me go upstairs to pack a bag or would I have to leave with nothing but the clothes on my back? Or they demand that I stop being a … lesbian so they can love me, which is not going to happen in this lifetime. She winced again, this time for completely different reasons. This scenario sounded much more likely than the best-case scenario, but a part of her wanted to believe that they loved her enough to accept her._

_She realized that whatever happened with her family would probably fall somewhere between those two scenarios. If it were closer to the best-case scenario, she’d be okay. If it were closer to the worst-case scenario, she’d probably have to bunk at Brittany’s house for a while. She was certain the Pierces would let her stay, hell, they took in that fuckin’ Leprechaun kid. And then she and Britt would have to see what was going to happen._

_For the first time in what felt like days her lips curled upwards into a tiny smile. She smiled because there wasn’t a single scenario in her mind where Brittany wasn’t by her side. With that she decided that it was time to go home and see what the situation was. She got up and headed for her locker to grab some clothes._

\--- 

Her sneakers were the only sound in the hallway, a simple tap-tap-tap that echoed in the empty building. Just as she was rounding the last corner before the main entrance, she heard another sound. 

“Santana!” 

Santana stopped dead in her tracks. _Fuck. I thought I had until tomorrow until I get reprimanded._ She closed her eyes for a second before turning around. “Coach.” 

“Come to my office for a sec,” Sue Sylvester said quietly and disappeared into her sanctum. 

_Huh, that almost sounded like a request, not an order._ That fact scared Santana a little because it reminded her of the earlier intervention. But she also knew that no matter how un-commanding the coach had been that she really had no choice. 

She hesitated at the door. 

“Come in, Santana.” Coach Sylvester voice was still calm and Santana was starting to freak out a little bit. She wasn’t used to hearing her actual name fall from those lips. 

Santana nodded and took a seat in front of the desk. “What’s going on, Coach?” she asked, her voice almost as steady as she hoped it would be. 

“That’s what I wanted to ask you.” When Santana didn’t say anything, Sue continued. “Not in your uniform, I see.” She pointed at Santana who was dressed in jeans and a black shirt. Before Santana could defend herself, Sue went on. “Nice change … but just for today.” 

Well, that last bit almost sounded like the real Sue Sylvester. “Yes, Coach.” 

“Listen, Santana, I’m really sorry that my opponent is trying to use you to beat me. It was never my intention to draw you into this.” Sue chuckled. “Well, not that much anyway, and not in this way.” She paused. “I called a few people today and I got a judge that I know to sign an injunction against the ad.” 

Santana looked up. “Does that mean--?” 

“The ad won’t make it to statewide TV, at least not today and probably tomorrow.” Sue sighed a little. “If he appeals the injunction, however, I can’t guarantee anything past that. But this gives you today and tomorrow to … you know, do what you need to do.” 

_And that throws out at least one part of my worst-case scenario. I can still tell them on my own terms, at least if I do it immediately._ Santana swallowed, her throat suddenly dry and constricted. “Thanks, Coach.” There really wasn’t anything else to say. 

“If you want me to, I could come with you to talk to your parents,” Sue said, her voice gentle. 

_Oh hell no!_ “Thanks, Coach, but I think that’s something I have to do alone.” 

“No,” Sue replied just as gentle as before, “you don’t. If you don’t want a congressional candidate by your side, at least take your girlfriend.” 

“But—” 

“Lopez,” Sue interrupted her, “this is not just about you.” 

“Coach is right, San,” came a voice from the open door. 

Santana stood and whirled around. “Britt! What are you doing here?” 

“I got tired of playing hood ornament for your car,” Brittany said as she walked into the room. “So I decided to look for you again.” 

“You were waiting outside for me the whole time?” Santana murmured. 

“Duh.” 

Santana really wanted to hug Brittany and she could see Brittany’s hands twitch as well, but she couldn’t when Sue Sylvester was sitting in front of them. 

“I need to check on something in the locker room, girls,” Sue suddenly said. And before anyone could say anything else, she was gone. 

Santana flew into Brittany’s arms the second they were alone and Brittany hugged her for all she was worth. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be waiting for you?” Brittany asked quietly after a few moments. 

Santana shrugged. “I don’t know … not really … but everyone else left …” 

Brittany pulled away slightly to look into Santana’s eyes. “They left because I told them to, silly.” She brushed at the still visible tear tracks on her girlfriend’s face. “I know you needed some alone time, so I told them I’d take care of you.” 

“As always,” Santana breathed. 

“As always.” 

“I’m sorry I denied this … us … for so long, Britt,” Santana sighed. “I love you.” 

“Don’t apologize _again_ ,” Brittany teased. “We talked about this so much over the summer.” She leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek. “I know you love me, San, and I love you, and no matter what happens, that’s the important thing.” 

Santana sniffled. “Yes, oh wise woman.” She looked up at the blonde’s face, suddenly needing to be a lot closer to her. “Britt …” her voice was strangled, “I …” 

Brittany took one look into Santana’s eyes, and nodded. She pulled both their backpacks onto one shoulder and walked out of the office, pulling Santana along with her free hand. 

“Britt … where …” Santana stumbled after her girlfriend who was looking up and down the hallway as she went, finally storming into the dark choir room and into Mr. Schue’s office. 

Brittany kicked the door close, pulled down the blinds and threw their backpacks onto the desks, all seemingly in one motion. Then she tugged on Santana’s hand, pulling her flush against her body, before attacking her lips in a fierce, but loving kiss. “Let me take are of you,” she whispered. 

“Oh, God,” Santana cried out between kisses, dragging Brittany to the closest wall by her uniform top. Brittany’s body pushed her into the wall so hard that she was afraid she’d become part of the paneling, but it felt so, so good. The last clear thought Santana later remembered having was, _Britt knows me so well._

**** 

The drive to Santana’s house was silent, but not uncomfortably so. Brittany had insisted on driving with another quiet “let me take care of you”, so Santana was free to look at her girlfriend and the streetlights outside the car. 

“Coach Sylvester was acting really strangely earlier,” Santana finally said into the silence. 

“Yeah,” Brittany agreed. “She let you walk around in street clothes without making you run a few miles!” 

Santana chuckled. “That was a surprise, yeah. I expected her to rip me a new one after I slapped that walking sack of potatoes.” 

Brittany stopped the car at a red light and looked at her. “Why didn’t you tell me about what Finn said to you?” She sounded hurt. “Don’t you think I should have known?” 

Santana reached over to put her hand on Brittany’s thigh. “I’m sorry, Britt.” She sighed. “I should have … but I didn’t want you to have to deal with that …” She sighed. “I thought I could deal with it on my own.” 

“Please stop trying to protect me, San,” Brittany protested. “That’s not what I need from you … what we need from each other.” She looked over at her girlfriend. “If you tell me things, I can help you deal with them, but that only works if you don’t keep things from me.” 

Santana had a feeling they weren’t just talking about Finn any longer. “I’m sorry, B, I really am … it’s just that—” 

“That you’ve protected me all my life, I know,” Brittany interrupted yet another apology that she didn’t want or need. “I would just really, really like to protect you for a change, you know,” she whispered. 

Santana swallowed around the lump in her throat and squeezed Brittany’s thigh gently before pulling her hand back into her own lap. “I’ll try, Britt.” 

“You better!” And with that Brittany’s sunny grin was back, just as they stopped in front of the Lopez residence. 

Brittany turned off the car and turned her whole body towards the passenger seat. “How do you want to do this, honey?” 

Santana looked at the front door of her house, at the lights streaming out of the kitchen window, then shrugged. “I don’t know … I don’t have much of a plan.” 

“Why don’t we go inside and see who’s home?” 

“Yeah.” But Santana didn’t move. Brittany got out of the car, walked around to the passenger door and opened it, offering her hand to the girl inside. It took a few seconds for Santana to start moving, but finally she was standing in front of her own house, very unsure of whether or not this would still be her home after tonight. 

She turned to her girlfriend. “Britt, if my parents—” 

Brittany tightened her hold on Santana’s hand. “If bad things happen here tonight, you’ll come stay with me.” She blushed a little. “I don’t really want to be away from you anyway.” 

Santana smiled. “That sounds good.” She nodded once, then again, and finally opened the door and walked inside. 

“Santana, is that you?” came a voice from the kitchen. 

“Yes, it’s me, abuela,” Santana replied, wishing her voice hadn’t cracked right then. She moved towards the kitchen, maintaining a death grip on Brittany’s hand. She was beginning to sweat and she couldn’t shake the feeling that there wasn’t enough air in the whole world for her to breathe in. 

Santana’s grandmother was preparing dinner in the kitchen, a sure sign that her parents were expected home sometime soon. “Hola, Santana,” she said. “Hello, Brittany.” 

When Santana didn’t reply or come any closer, Carmen Lopez looked up at the two girls in the doorway. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at school?” 

Seeing that Santana seemed frozen to the spot, Brittany decided that now might be a good time for her to jump in and help her girlfriend. “Well, something always happens at school,” she deflected the question by answering it very literally, “otherwise we wouldn’t have to go, right?” 

Carmen Lopez laughed, well acquainted with Brittany’s view on life, and that brought back some life into Santana. She let go of Brittany’s hand and took a couple of steps towards her grandmother. “When are mom and dad going to be home?” she asked after a moment. 

“Any minute,” her grandmother replied, just as the sound of cars pulling into the driveway could be heard. A few seconds later the front door opened and closed, and then Santana’s parents came into view. 

“Hello, girls,” Dr. Lopez greeted them with a friendly smile while his wife went over to hug both girls and her mother-in-law. 

“Did anything happen?” Maria Lopez asked, taking in her daughter’s clothes and the somewhat strained mood in the room. “Why aren’t you in your uniform?” 

Santana rolled her yes. She should have just worn the damn thing. “Coach allowed me to wear normal clothes for a change, mamí.” 

“Oh, okay,” her mother said, while her husband could be heard saying something that sounded suspiciously like “about time”. 

“Well then,” Maria Lopez continued, “Let’s have dinner and you two can tell us about your day. You’re staying, right, Brittany?” 

Brittany nodded, suddenly feeling a little nervous as well. 

“Something is wrong, I can feel it,” Santana’s mother mumbled with another look at the two girls who appeared too nervous for a normal dinner, even if it was at the Lopez house, which could get rough and rowdy sometimes. She looked up sharply. “Is either one of you pregnant?” 

“No!” both girls practically shouted. 

“No, totally not, mamí,” Santana insisted. 

“That’s not even possible,” Brittany whispered, almost giving her girlfriend a heart attack. “What?” Brittany asked when she saw Santana’s look. “It’s not.” 

Mrs. Lopez breathed a sigh of relief while her husband looked on with something close to amusement. “OK, I’m starving, let’s eat,” he called out, already on his way to the dining table. 

Everyone followed, Santana and Brittany bringing up the rear, shuffling as if they were walking towards their doom, not dinner. 

*** 

After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Maria Lopez had enough. There was clearly something going on. Neither of the girls sitting at her table had eaten anything, nor had they so much as looked up from their plates. She saw the looks Brittany was shooting Santana when she thought nobody was watching, and they were not the same looks she usually sent her daughter. No, this was a worried kind of look, and from the way Santana was sitting in her chair, all shrunken and trying to hide behind her cutlery led her to believe that the one in trouble wasn’t Brittany. 

She put her fork down forcefully, intentionally making more than enough noise to wake the dead. Everyone raised their heads and looked at her. “Well,” she said serenely, “now that I have your attention, Santana, Brittany, why don’t you tell us what’s going on?” 

Santana looked at her mother like a deer caught in the headlights. She hated that she was so … terrified. They were her parents and they loved her, right? No matter what. Right? She felt as if a sandstorm had settled in her throat and lungs, and no amount of water could wash that away. She tried anyway, taking a couple of huge gulps from her glass, an action that unbeknownst to her made her mother very, very nervous. 

Brittany discreetly put her hand on Santana’s knee, trying to calm her and give her strength. She pressed into the strong flesh once, twice, and a third time when Santana didn’t make a move to say anything. Finally, she breathed out a quiet, “San?” 

Santana’s thoughts were jumbled, twirling around in her brain like a tornado. Brittany’s hand was steadying her, though, and she closed her eyes for a second to focus. When she heard Brittany’s quiet voice, she steeled herself with one last deep breath, and looked her mother straight in the eyes. 

“Mom … mamí …,” she started, the stopped and started anew. “I … I have to tell you something. It’s not really bad … but it’s sort of big … and important … and it’s about me.” 

She held up her hand when she saw her mother taking a deep breath as if to speak. “No, please, just let me say this.” Her mother nodded. “I’m not pregnant, mamí …” She hesitated again before finally pressing the words she dreaded through her dry throat. “I’m … I’m just … I’m gay.” 

The silence around the table was deafening as everyone stared at Santana and then Brittany, putting two and two together with ease. Dr. Lopez calmly folded up his napkin, put it on his plate and stood, before leaving the room without a word. 

Santana fought the urge to run, run as fast and as far as she could, but Brittany’s hand on her leg grounded her like nothing else could. Besides, she had said what she needed to say. Now the ball was in her parents’ court. 

Maria Lopez looked at her daughter, her face blank, her eyes expressionless. This was something she never would have expected, but when she looked at Brittany and the way the blonde girl looked at her daughter, she suddenly recognized the looks she had always seen for what they were – love. 

Carmen Lopez looked at her granddaughter, disgust clouding her features. She looked to where her son had disappeared to, then at her useless daughter-in-law who wouldn’t say anything either. She knew it was up to her to speak out. 

“I always knew you were no good,” she started, venom lacing her words like a toxin. “Trash, that’s what you are, you and your … puta.” She spat the last word, and Santana was glad that Brittany’s Spanish wasn’t particularly good. 

Santana opened her mouth, but her abuela stopped her. “Be quiet,” she bellowed harshly. “You have nothing to say at this table, you godless … creature.” 

“Carmen!” Maria Lopez finally came out of her trance when she saw all color leave Santana’s face. “Stop!” 

“Why?” the older woman spat. “She’s worthless, always has been. It’s all your fault anyway, you probably made her that way.” 

“No.” Brittany’s voice was surprisingly steely, even if it was quiet. “It’s nobody’s fault, nobody made us this way … we were born this way, and it’s not wrong.” She looked away from Santana’s scary grandmother and looked at her girlfriend’s mother. “Santana is a wonderful person, and she’s my best friend. And I love her.” She looked at Santana, then took Santana’s hand and placed their interlaced fingers on the table. “I’m in love with her, just like she’s in love with me.” 

“Madre de dios,” Carmen Lopez mumbled and made the sign of the cross. “Get out, both of you, you … filth.” 

Santana and Brittany both pushed their chairs back, prepared to leave where they weren’t welcome. 

“Stop, please,” Santana’s mother pleaded, to both her daughter and her mother-in-law. “Don’t leave,” she continued quietly, and Santana almost heard the “not yet” that her mother hadn’t tacked onto her plea. “And you,” she turned to Carmen, “you don’t have the right to tell my daughter to leave.” 

The old woman spluttered and threw her napkin on the table. “We’ll see what my son has to say about that.” She got up and walked towards the door. She stopped in the doorway and turned around. “Either she goes or I go,” she hissed. “And I’m an old woman … who do you think your husband is going to listen to?” 

Maria Lopez turned to the two girls who seemed to be half-sitting, half-standing at the table. “Sit down, girls. We need to talk.” 

Both girls sat back down, but when nobody said anything for, Brittany got nervous. “Erm, Mrs. Lopez,” she began, “I’m really confused right now.” 

Santana nodded. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Should we leave?” Brittany asked. 

“Are you okay with this?” Santana asked almost simultaneously. 

Maria Lopez looked at her daughter. “Mija, you do know what I do for a living, right?” Both Santana and Brittany nodded, and Brittany almost added a “duh” for good measure. “Then tell me, what part of lawyer for the ACLU equates to narrow-minded bigot for you?” 

“So you’re okay?” Santana just needed to hear it from her mother’s mouth, just the words, no flowery descriptions. 

Maria Lopez sighed. “Am I happy that you’re gay? No. Because as you’re experiencing right now, this is still not an easy lifestyle. Am I angry with you two? No. Because I believe love is love, no matter what. But …” she paused, “your abuela is going to be a different matter. I know you’ve always had problems with her, and me too, but your father loves her, and she is stubborn enough to push him into doing something … crazy.” 

“Maybe I should talk to him,” Santana murmured. “Explain to him.” 

Her mother shook her head. “Mija, your father works in a hospital, he _knows_ gay people. One of his colleagues is even married to another man.” She chuckled, but sobered quickly. “The problem is your abuela. If she tells your father it’s either her or you, I don’t know what he’ll do.” 

She saw the panic rise on Santana’s face. 

“Not because he loves her more than you, honey,” she said quickly, “but she’s his mother, and she’s elderly, and this is a hard thing for him to make a choice about.” 

Brittany saw Santana’s stricken face and put her arms around her, but not without a side-glance at Santana’s mother, who smiled and nodded. Santana stiffened for a second, also shooting a look at her mother, getting the same smile and tiny nod. Only then did she relax her body enough for Brittany to pull her into a hug. 

“I’m going to talk to your father,” her mother said as she got up from the table. “Why don’t you clear the table and then go upstairs?” 

Both girls nodded, even though Santana’s nod was hidden in the crook of Brittany’s neck. “Okay.” 

*** 

Ten minutes later the girls were sitting on Santana’s bed listening to the yells and screams coming from her father’s study. Santana was glad they were arguing in Spanish so she didn’t have to explain to Brittany the abuse her grandmother heaped on her mother. Apparently, there was no love lost between the two women, something that Santana hadn’t really noticed until then. 

Finally, the voices got quieter, although Santana wasn’t sure if that was only because someone had remembered to close the door to the study at last. 

“The fighting has stopped, I think,” Brittany mumbled, “but my stomach still kinda hurts.” 

“Mine too,” Santana replied quietly. “It’s the stress, I think,” she added as she began to softly rub circles on Brittany’s stomach. The blonde sighed. 

There was a knock before her door opened. _That’s new_ , Santana thought. She watched as her mother and father came into the room to stand awkwardly next to the bed. 

“Santana,” her father began, “first off, I didn’t run off because I hate you.” Santana could see how uncomfortable he was and she knew she wasn’t going to like what came next. “Your abuela is a very … headstrong woman, and she values her traditions and morals. For her, it’s completely unacceptable that you’re gay, and she refuses to be under the same roof as you.” 

“I’m going to pack my stuff then.” Santana’s voice and body language spoke of resignation. “I’ll go … somewhere.” 

“We’ll go to my house, San, just like we said,” Brittany added. 

“Santana,” her mother interrupted her daughter’s darkening thoughts. “It’s just until we find a place for her to live.” Santana looked up, surprised. “I’m not going to let her run my daughter out of my own house.” 

Santana looked over at her father who nodded, albeit hesitantly. 

“You’re free to stay here, mija,” Dr. Lopez said, “but I’m afraid she’s going to make your life a living hell if you do. It’s your choice, really. If Brittany’s parents will let you stay with them, that might be nicer for you.” 

“Do your parents know about you two, Brittany,” Santana’s mother asked. “Will they be okay with Santana staying over for a few days?” 

Brittany chuckled and held Santana’s hand a little tighter. “My mom said that I told her I was going to marry Santana one day … when I was five.” She shrugged. “So I guess they know.” 

“But you haven’t mentioned the fact that you’re in love with Santana to her since?” Maria Lopez asked. 

“No, but I don’t think I have to,” Brittany said with a smile. “The thing she reminded me of? That I wanted to marry San? She said that last night, and I told her that my plans haven’t really changed.” 

She looked at the floor, completely missing the wide-eyed look Santana gave her or the jaws that dropped on Santana’s parents’ faces. 

“I guess that’s okay then,” Maria Lopez finally said. 

Brittany just nodded. “Do you want to stay or go, San?” 

Santana stopped her rambling thoughts long enough to squeak out a “go” before Brittany dragged her towards her closet. 

*** 

It took 20 minutes to pack two duffel bags with essentials, even though Santana’s parents said that there was no need to take all that stuff because they could always come back for more clothes. Besides, it was only going to be for a few days. 

Santana’s grandmother was nowhere to be found when they said goodbye to Santana’s parents downstairs and Santana felt nothing but relief at that. When the door closed behind them with what sounded like more finality than it should have, she breathed in deeply once, then again, then let it go. 

The Pierces were surprised to see Brittany come in so late and with Santana in tow, but just as Brittany had predicted they took it all in stride once the girls explained the situation. Mr. Pierce was a little worried about the two of them sleeping in the same room, now that they were a couple, but Brittany’s mother told him that apparently nothing had _really_ changed from the last time they had shared a room, which had only been a few days ago. 

“Besides,” Mrs. Pierce added, “there is no other room since Rory is in the spare room.” 

At the mention of Brittany’s pet Irish Santana blew an inner raspberry, secretly looking forward to torturing him at the breakfast table with the knowledge that she had Brittany and he never would. Brittany only looked at Santana and breathed a “be nice” into her ear, before leading her upstairs and into her bedroom. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. I only own my mistakes.

Santana leaned back against the bedroom door, her eyes closed. Brittany turned to look at her and when Santana opened her eyes to look at her, she simply tilted her head in question. 

“I’m just so tired, Britt.” She pushed away from the door. “Is it okay if we just go to bed?” 

“That’s perfect.” Brittany met Santana halfway between the bed and the door and began undressing her with the gentlest, non-sexual touch she could muster. Then she dragged Santana into her bathroom. “Go on, get ready” she whispered. “I’ll use my parents’ bathroom.” 

Santana grabbed her toothbrush, the one she always used when she was staying over at Brittany’s and squirted toothpaste onto it. It really was a testament to their relationship, she mused, that they both had toothbrushes, hairbrushes and assorted toiletries in the other’s bathroom. They both had _clothes_ at the other’s house. 

Santana looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She wondered if she shouldn’t be feeling … _different_ , now that the cat was out of the bag, now that her parents knew, and Britt’s parents knew. But she was still scared, maybe even more so, and she was beginning to feel bad about it. _What if Britt thinks I’m ashamed of her or something? That would suck. You need to find a way to deal with all this fucked up shit and show Britt that she’s the one._

She rinsed out her mouth. Why were there always so many things to worry about? They were teenagers; shouldn’t their lives be carefree and happy? Santana knew she was pretty privileged, all things considered, but in no way would she describe her high school experience as “carefree and happy”. Except for the time she spent with Brittany. That thought brought a tiny smile to her face and she turned off the light to join her girlfriend in bed. 

\----------------------- 

Annie Pierce answered the phone with a quiet “Hello?” 

“Hello, Annie,” Maria Lopez said, her voice slightly more hesitant than it would usually be. “Have the girls made it … home?” 

“Hey, Mari. Yes, they came in a while ago.” Annie sat down at the kitchen table to settle down for what she expected to be a lengthy talk with her long-time friend. “They told me what happened … I’m sorry your monster-in-law reacted the way she did.” 

Maria snorted. “I take it you were not as surprised as I was by the news?” 

Annie smiled. “Frankly, I was surprised when Santana said that you were surprised, but I guess she’s much better at hiding her feelings than Brittany is.” 

Maria laughed but then got serious again. “I also think she might be a lot less scared of emotions … I don’t think we were the best examples for Santana in that regard.” She sighed. “And it sure didn’t help that she had to spend so much time with her grandmother when she was little because Tonio and I were so busy building our careers.” 

“Hmm, she sounds like … a difficult woman ... but you never talked about her much.” Annie was trying to be tactful. 

“A bitch is what she is,” Maria spat out. “Sorry.” 

“It’s all right, Maria … she _did_ just make you choose between her and Santana.” 

“No!” Maria’s voice was determined. “No, no, that’s not it. Not really, anyway. Didn’t Santana tell you?” 

“She said that you gave her a choice and that she could go back once you’d found an apartment for her grandmother … but she sounded so unsure of herself." 

“My poor baby.” Annie could hear the tears in Maria’s voice. 

“Listen, Mari, everything’s going to be all right.” Annie tried to soothe her friend. “Santana can stay here as long as she needs to or wants to, you know that.” She chuckled. “You know we couldn’t pry them apart anyway, even if we tried. It would be like World War III or something.” Her thoughts turned to the strained weeks when Brittany was dating Artie and she and Santana were at odds with each other. She cringed, remembering slammed doors and red eyes from crying, and one particular night that Santana had spent crying on her shoulder when Brittany was out with Artie, a night she had never mentioned to anyone, especially not Brittany, and she was sure that Santana hadn't either. 

“Yeah.” Maria sounded a little better. “Listen, Tonio and I will cover any extra expenses—“ 

“Stop right there, Mari,” Annie interrupted. “You know that’s not necessary.” Then she smiled mischievously. “We’ll just let you and Tonio pay for the wedding when the time comes.” 

This finally got her a real laugh. “You think that’s where they are going?” 

Annie laughed with her. “Yes, actually, I think that’s where they’re headed. Britt has been planning on marrying Santana since she was five, in fact.” 

“Yes, Brittany mentioned that earlier.” Maria smiled at the memory. “Well, you’ve got yourself a deal then.” 

Annie laughed again. “Deal. But I think we’ll have a few years to plan that. Good night, Mari.” 

“Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.” 

Annie ended the phone call with a smile. She wondered if the kids even knew their mothers were really good friends. 

\----------------------- 

Brittany was already in bed when Santana came out of the bathroom. “Hey,” she said, a small smile on her face, as she walked over to her bags to grab something to sleep in.” 

“Don’t,” Brittany said quietly, and when Santana looked at her she simply lifted the covers to show her own naked body. 

_Completely. Naked. Body._ Santana swallowed thickly. That sight always did things to her, but she wasn’t sure she was up to anything tonight. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically. 

Brittany could almost hear Santana’s thoughts, so plainly were they written on that expressive face. “We’ll just sleep, San,” she whispered, “but I want to hold you in my arms and I want to feel your body next to me. Besides, we don’t have a reason to hide now … I doubt my mom or dad will come in here, now that they _officially_ know.” 

She smiled brightly and beckoned Santana over with her free hand, the other still holding up the covers. Santana turned off the light and joined Brittany on the soft mattress. At once, toned arms wrapped themselves around her body, one under her neck, the other snaking up around her stomach and to her breasts, where it rested on her heart. 

Santana could feel Brittany’s lips ghosting over her shoulders and she relaxed fully into the embrace, the love surrounding her. She shivered when she felt teeth sink into the side of her neck, followed by a lick and a kiss. “Britt …” 

Brittany giggled quietly. “Sorry,” she said rather insincerely. 

“You’re not.” Santana smiled. She turned her head as far as she could in their position and captured Brittany’s lips in a playful, but thorough kiss. “Good night, Britt,” she whispered with a grin and snuggled back down again. _Shouldn’t have done that_ , she thought as her body was sending her definite signals that it wasn’t as tired as it had pretended. _Britt is so damn irresistible_. 

“G’night,” Brittany huffed, only making Santana smile wider. 

“That was unfair, San,” Brittany whined after a few seconds. 

Santana laughed silently. “Erm, sorry?” 

“You’re not,” Brittany mumbled. “And neither am I,” she added as she pressed her mouth to the neck in front of her again. 

Santana turned around in Brittany’s arms, facing her fully. “You’re right, I’m not, and you shouldn’t be either.” With that she pressed her lips to Brittany’s in a deep kiss that woke her body up fully and threw every other thought from her mind. 

Her body was on full alert now. It was in these moments when Santana almost believed in the concept of soul mates, these moments when her very soul seemed to crave the touch of its other half through the melding of their bodies. Sex with everyone else was mundane, a simple act of trying to get some pleasure from another’s touch. With Brittany, sex was as close to a religious experience for Santana as she’d ever get. She moaned into the kiss, deepening the contact even more, anticipation of what was to come making her more and more aroused by the second. 

Brittany reacted instantly, nipping and sucking on the tongue that played with hers, tightening her arm around Santana’s waist, wrapping her other hand in long black hair. “God, San, I thought you were tired,” she murmured breathlessly after a few minutes, her voice an octave below its usual register. 

Santana growled and rolled Brittany onto her back and began running her hand up and down the blonde’s torso. “I guess you woke me up,” she husked. “And I’m not sorry about that,” she added before deciding that her mouth could be put to much more pleasurable use. 

Brittany took that as permission to let her desire run free. Her hands roamed everywhere they could reach, never staying in one place long. There was just so much of Santana to touch, so many spots she loved, so much pleasure to find in the dips and curves of her toned body. 

“You’re driving me crazy, Britt,” Santana moaned. Her skin was on fire everywhere Brittany touched, but the touches were never enough, and never where she needed them the most. “I need you, baby, please … please, touch me.” 

“I am touching you, honey,” Brittany cooed. She loved teasing Santana until the girl was so worked up that she was begging for one more touch. She always wondered just how far she could push Santana if she really tried … and if she herself could hold out that long, which she really couldn’t. Touching Santana made her whole body feel like it was hooked up to an electric current, just like the one time that she had tried to feel the inside of a socket with her finger when she was little. Just nicer. 

Every part of her body wanted to be closer to Santana’s body, and by the way their bodies were pressing together she could tell that Santana felt the same way. She had to ask Santana if she thought it was possible they had magnets in their bodies, because sometimes it really, really felt that way. 

Another low growl told Brittany that she’d teased Santana as far as she could for the night. “Please, Britt, I need you ... I can’t wait any more.” Santana sounded almost desperate. 

Brittany pulled Santana’s face closer and kissed her for all she was worth, before running one hand down her back to cup her ass. She pulled Santana up until their eyes were level and plunged two fingers into Santana from behind. 

“Oh, God, Britt,” Santana moaned loudly, her back stretched in a taut arch. “Yes, yes … harder, Britt, please … God, so good …” She continued to moan, pushing back onto Brittany’s fingers, trying to get them as deep as possible. “I’m so close, baby … so close …” 

Brittany picked up her rhythm, pushed deeper and curled her fingers before pulling almost completely out, only to repeat it all over again, driving Santana closer and closer to the edge. “Let go, baby, come for me,” she coaxed. 

Santana just groaned and mumbled something incoherent. Brittany loved watching her like this, all tense and sweaty, straining towards release. She ducked her head and took a nipple in her mouth, sucking on it, licking and biting, before going back to sucking. Her free hand went to the other breast and tweaked the nipple in the same rhythm her fingers were pushing into Santana. 

The effect was almost immediate as Santana stilled, back arched, her face a mixture of ecstasy and strain as her body threw itself off the edge. “God, Britt, I’m … Jesus fucking Christ … unhh …” Her voice broke on a string of Spanish words, only half of which Brittany understood and then she collapsed onto Brittany, completely spent. 

Brittany kissed Santana’s face, smiling for the sheer joy of seeing her girlfriend like this. “I’ve got you, babe,” she whispered, stroking Santana’s back, kissing her forehead. “Just sleep now.” 

“What about you?” Santana mumbled, raising her head to look at Brittany. 

“I’m good, honey,” Brittany said with a smile and a quick kiss. “You’re just going to owe me one now.” 

Santana looked like she wanted to protest for a bit, but when Brittany tightened her arms around her and pressed the dark head down to rest on her shoulder, Santana relaxed. “Hmm, okay then,” she rumbled against Brittany’s neck. “I’ma gonna love paying ya back.” 

Brittany chuckled. “Not more than me.” She sighed happily. “Good night, San.” 

“G’night, B,” Santana whispered as she curled her whole body around Brittany’s. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

It was quiet for a few minutes and Brittany was just drifting off to sleep when she heard a quiet. “Britt?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really, really hate Finn,” Santana mumbled, already half asleep, and Brittany nodded, not particularly fond of the boy herself at the moment. “But at least I don’t have a reason not to hold your hand now whenever I want to.” She sighed and snuggled even closer. “Which is all the time.” Brittany tightened her hold on Santana and smiled when she felt a soft kiss on her collarbone. “Still gonna kick his ass.” 

Brittany grinned. Yup, she wouldn’t want to be in Finn’s shoes tomorrow. 

\---------------------- 

Santana woke up before the alarm, still in Brittany's arms, although they had changed positions during the night. She relished the feeling of her naked girlfriend pressed against her, and she lightly tugged on the hand between her breasts, pulling it tighter into her. 

They usually didn't sleep naked because both were trying to be careful around their parents, so this was special and Santana decided then and there that she never wanted to wake up any other way. Ever again. The thought made her pause, breath hitched in her throat, because it sounded suspiciously like forever, which _was_ a big thing when you were 17. She breathed in deeply, relaxing as _their_ scent hit her. _Well, it might be unusual at 17 but if you know what you want, you should go for it, right? I wonder if Britt thinks the same thing._ She smiled, a little smugly. _She_ did _tell her mom she wants to marry me, so I guess she might want forever too._

Santana thought that the idea of forever should probably scare her, but instead she found that it made her calm. Brittany knew everything about her, loved her despite all her flaws, and that was an incredibly good feeling. Great even, and as absolutely wonderful as sex was, it might be an even better feeling to know you can always be yourself, and be loved for that. 

_Being myself ..._ She thought about the previous day. _Today is going to royally suck._ Santana didn't want to get up and go to school, didn't want to face the world outside their little cocoon. She tried to imagine what it was going to be like, playing out scenarios in her head again. 

Best-case scenario: everything is normal, nothing happens. Yeah, fucking likely. 

Worst-case scenario: slushy facial first thing, then having to face Finn's ugly, grinning face. Probably get into trouble for hitting him, which was so, so justified. Everyone talking behind her back, pointing at her and Britt as they're walking to class, and -- 

"You're thinking very dark thoughts," Brittany murmured into her ear. "I think it actually got darker in here just now." 

Santana felt a kiss on her neck, and she couldn't help but smile as the 'dark thoughts' swam away on a wave of affection for Brittany. "Just a little worried about today," she replied without really meaning to. "I'm not sure what's going to happen at school, you know?" 

"I know, San." Brittany raised herself up on one arm and leaned over Santana, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. "Here's what's going to happen: first we're going to have breakfast, then we're going to go to school, where a lot of people are going to stare at us because you're the most awesomest girl at the school, and you're holding my hand." 

Santana grinned and interrupted Brittany with another kiss. "But you're so much more awesome than I am, Britt." 

"Shh, this is my story," she said with a cheeky grin. 

"Okay, so what's next?" 

"Next ... Finn is going to come up to you and demand an apology from you for hitting him--" Santana raised an eyebrow at that, but Brittany simply ignored it. "... and you're going to tell him where he can stick that and that he should apologize to you. Then you're going to tell him that he looks like an overgrown baby with the dress sense of a demented goat ... oh wait, that's Rachel ... and then we're going to go to class." 

By the time Brittany was done, Santana was giggling. "You really don't like Finn, do you? Or Berry?" 

Brittany bit her lower lip, looking slightly uncomfortable at the idea, but to Santana's eyes also completely adorable. "No, I don't." She sighed. "Rachel is always so disrespectful of you when she doesn't know anything about you. Besides you're so much better than she is, at everything." 

Santana smiled fondly, not in the mood to disagree with her girlfriend. "And Finn? Is it just because he outed me?" 

Brittany sat up and rolled away from Santana. "No," she mumbled almost too low for Santana to hear. 

Santana was alarmed and sat up quickly as well. "Britt?" She touched Brittany's shoulder, trying to turn her around, but Brittany resisted. "Britt? Baby, what's going on? I'm getting worried here ..." 

Brittanychewed on her bottom lip for a few moments before looking at Santana, looking away again quickly. Finally she rushed out "I don't like him because you had sex with him.” 

Santana was baffled. "What? But that was ages ago ... and you told me to, remember?" 

"I know, I know," Brittany said with a sigh. "It's stupid, I know, okay ... it's just ... I don't know ... just the thought ... of him on you makes me sorta sick." 

Santana could understand that, she got the same feeling every time she thought of Artie getting to touch Brittany. She pulled Brittany closer, giving her a full-body hug from behind. "No, it's not stupid, Britt." She pressed a kiss to the side of Brittany's head. "I understand ..." She hesitated, not sure she should mention her feelings about Artie. _Nah, don't torture her with that._ "I feel the same way about that ... encounter with him. Remember what I said about it when we talked to Rachel?" 

Brittany nodded, remembering exactly that she was thinking how awful that time must have been for Santana. "I remember, and I think that's one of the reasons why I hate it so much. Not just that he got to touch you, but also that he made you feel bad." 

"Oh, Britt," Santana said with a sigh. "You need to let that go ... it was so long ago." She turned Brittany's head to face so she could kiss her gently. "I love you, and even back then I loved you, although I didn't quite know it then. Or could have admitted it," she added wryly. 

She leaned in to kiss Brittany again, stalling for time a little. "But ..." 

When Santana didn't continue, Brittany pulled away a little and turned around in Santana's embrace, wrapping her legs around her girlfriend in a very intimate hug. Her center was touching Santana's lower abdomen, and she could feel Santana's breasts against her own. She looked at Santana and saw her eyes glaze over, but she wasn't done talking yet, although the topic was becoming less important with every second that passed. 

Santana couldn't resist temptation and captured Brittany's lips in a thorough kiss. When they came up for air, they were both panting and Santana had just about forgotten what they had been doing before. 

But Brittany, for some reason, hadn't. After another much too short kiss in Santana's eyes, she asked, "What were you going to say, San?" 

Santana's eyes tried to focus on something other than Brittany's lips, and her reply was incredibly eloquent. "Huh?" 

Brittany grinned, charmed by the obvious effect she had on her girlfriend. "You were going to say something about Finn." 

Santana tried to remember the conversation and cringed when she did. "Yeah, I was," she said. 

"So?" 

_Just throw it out there._ "Finn was the last guy I had sex with," Santana murmured into the crook of Brittany's neck. 

Brittany gasped. "But ... but that was ..." 

"Sophomore year, yeah," Santana deadpanned with a self-deprecating grin. "Some school slut I am, eh?" 

"But I thought, you and Puck ..." 

Santana shook her head. "Never let him get that far again, no matter what he says." 

"And Sam?" 

"Never got past my tits." 

Reflexively, Brittany's hands covered Santana's breasts. "I just don't understand, San," Brittany said. "You told me you were sleeping with Puck, remember? Why did you lie to me?" 

Santana cringed. This was why she hadn't wanted to have this conversation. "I'm sorry, Britt. You were trying to get me to sing a … gay duet with you ... in public ... and I just needed an excuse not to. I wasn't ready to face what I was feeling back then." She sighed. "I was an idiot, forgive me?" 

Brittany looked into Santana's eyes, trying to read her. "All I wanted was to be with you, San," she finally said. "When you pushed me away, I was hurt and I went to Artie." 

Santana held on tight and kept mumbling "I know, I'm sorry, please don't be angry..." into Brittany's ear. 

"You could have saved us a lot of heartache, San!" 

"I know, God, I know!" _It's not like I haven't thought about that exact same thing again and again and again._ "But I just wasn't ready at the time, I was still fighting myself." She sniffed away a tear. 

Brittany brushed the tear away with a thumb. "Are you ready now, San?" 

_Am I? Not just because I have no choice?_ Santana thought back to waking up in Brittany's arms and the peaceful feeling that she wanted this forever. She looked straight into Brittany's eyes. "I am. I want to date you and I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to be mine." She paused to brush away a tear that had formed in Brittany's eye, and jumped off a cliff. "Forever." 

_Brittany's smile could light up the entire Arctic in deepest winter_ , Santana thought and she would never in her life forget it. "I love you, Britt." 

Brittany's answer was a passionate kiss that pushed her back onto the bed, her blonde girlfriend attached to her lips and nipples. Heat shot through Santana, heat and a feeling of deep happiness, and she forgot about the day that lay ahead and kissed Brittany back with wild abandon. 

So of course there was a knock on the door. "Brittany? It's time to get up. Breakfast is ready," Annie Pierce said through the door. 

“We’re coming, mom,” Brittany replied between kisses, while Santana mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “not any more, we’re not”. Both girls groaned in frustration and Santana slowed their kisses down until they were trading slow nips and licks. With a final peck, they disentangled their bodies and rolled over to opposite sides of the bed. 

Brittany looked over her shoulder. "Ready to face the world?" 

_Surprisingly ..._ "Yes ... as ready as I'll ever be." 

"Race you to the bathroom?" Brittany grinned evilly and ran off before she had even finished speaking. 

Santana shook her head and followed. 

\-------------------- 

The best thing about breakfast for Santana was the look on Rory’s face when he came down and saw her and Brittany sitting at the table, drinking coffee and enjoying a chat with Brittany’s mother and little sister. 

“What are you doing here?” Rory asked, relatively bluntly. 

Santana shot him a look and calmly said, “I live here.” 

“Excuse me?” Rory looked from Santana to Brittany to the other Pierces, receiving nods from all of them. Santana didn’t say anything, just placed her right hand on the table between their plates, palm up and fingers slightly spread, and gave Brittany a loving look. Brittany casually fitted her left hand over Santana’s and locked their fingers. Then both girls calmly went back to drinking their coffee. 

Rory finally sat down at the table, looking rather nervous now. Santana contemplated playing with him for a bit, mostly because she still disliked him for trying to get into her girlfriend’s pants, and with the lamest trick on earth to boot. She shot him another look, which made Rory squeak and spill some of his … _whatever it was that he was drinking_. But when Brittany squeezed her hand and leaned over to remind her that she’d promised to be nice, making a nice show of touching Santana’s ear with her lips and grazing her cheek, Santana figured there were more important things in the world. Besides, there was a school hallway, in which to scare him, and the weeks to come. She had time. 

Then her body caught up to the fact that Brittany’s mouth was still very close to her ear and she blushed a little, turning a nice shade of red when she caught Mrs. Pierce’s eyes and saw the knowing smile. 

_She knows her daughter has me wrapped around her little finger,_ she sighed inwardly, but she couldn’t really be bothered to care.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, unfortunately.

Brittany was smiling all the way to school, mostly due to the fact that Santana had taken her hand and had pulled it over onto her thigh as soon as they had left the Pierces’ driveway. Brittany knew that at least part of Santana’s motive was possessiveness and the need to point out that Brittany was hers to the boy who was currently sulking in the backseat. But she still thought it was sweet, and she would never complain about public displays of affection from her girlfriend. 

Rory couldn’t tear his eyes away from Brittany’s hand resting on Santana’s thigh. Her fingers were playing with the edge of Santana’s red Cheerio skirt, tapping the hem, then moving a little higher on the thigh, before moving out again or being halted by Santana’s hand. Rory thought it was almost hypnotic in a way, following the fingers’ movement as they were painting invisible patterns on the tan thigh, but it certainly wasn’t in a good way. 

He looked at Santana’s reflection in the rear-view mirror and scowled at the smirk she sent his way when she noticed his eyes on her. He lowered his eyes immediately _because yes, he had got the message loud and clear_ : Brittany was Santana’s girl. As if the bloody nose during the dodgeball game hadn’t been message enough. Or Kurt’s little well-meant warning afterwards that it was never a good idea “to cross Satan”. 

Rory was glad when they finally reached McKinley High and Santana stopped the car in her customary spot close to the main entrance. He opened the door and bolted as soon as it was safe to do so, trying hard to ignore Santana’s laughter and Brittany’s giggle. The last thing he saw through the window was Brittany grabbing Santana’s hand and pressing a kiss to it. 

Santana was nowhere near as calm as she appeared and she suspected Brittany knew it and kept up the teasing little touches to distract her. _I guess grabbing her hand as soon as you got in the car was a pretty big sign._ She didn’t complain though – Brittany’s hand did a very good job of distracting her from everything that wasn’t Brittany or them, and she was pretty damn sure that the leprechaun kid had also gotten the message that Brittany was very much taken and off-limits. She grinned. _So far, so good._

She took a deep breath and eyed the school entrance. _Okay, everybody knows, so they’re all going to talk about you anyway. Remember, you’re the HBIC, Lopez, so just pretend you don’t care. Just … walk in and see what happens._ She swallowed audibly and realized she was shaking a little when Brittany took her hand and squeezed it, hard, before pulling it up to her face and pressing a gentle kiss to it. I’m here, the kiss said, that’s all that matters. 

“Ready?” Brittany broke the silence. 

Santana just nodded and got out of the car, swiftly moving around to the passenger side to open Brittany’s door for her. She loved the huge smile Brittany gave her when she did chivalrous things like that for her. She got both their backpacks from the trunk and handed Brittany hers. 

“Take my hand?” Santana asked quietly. 

“Always,” Brittany replied with a grin and interlaced their fingers, anchoring Santana. “Let’s go.” 

There were fewer looks their way than Santana had expected. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as bad as the worst-case scenario she had come up with in her mind. When she and Brittany made it all the way to their lockers without being slushied, Santana began to relax a little. Or maybe it was Brittany’s thumb that kept making tiny soothing motions on the back of her hand that finally got her to relax. 

Too bad they had to let go of each other to open their lockers, Santana thought. _They definitely need to invent locks that can be opened with one hand._ She sighed and dropped Brittany’s hand, albeit not with another squeeze and a longing look. Santana opened her locker carefully – you never knew what could happen and it was better to be safe than sorry – but everything was fine, so she just grabbed the books she needed for her first class. 

“San?” 

“Yeah?” 

“What’s our first class?” 

“Spanish with Mr. Schue, Britt.” Santana grinned. They did have similar conversations every morning and it all felt very normal. She closed her locker and turned towards Brittany to wait for her. It always took Brittany longer to grab things from her locker because she had so much _stuff_ crammed in there. 

Brittany finally slammed her locker shut and looked at her, but only for a second before her eyes went to something behind Santana. That’s when Santana felt a large presence looming over her. She took a deep breath, trying not to look nervous, and turned around. 

Finn. Of course. 

And Rory. Finn’s little Irish lapdog who had probably run to find Finn first thing. Santana scowled at him and felt a happy little jolt when Rory almost vanished behind Finn. 

She gave Finn a once-over, eyebrow raised in disdain. “Doughboy,” she greeted him coldly, relishing the twitch in his jaw. 

Brittany moved a little closer to Santana, shifting her books into one hand and putting the other at the small of her girlfriend’s back with gentle pressure. Her fingers scratched a little and Santana pressed back into her, almost imperceptibly. 

“Hello, Finn,” Brittany said quietly. 

Finn looked at her over Santana’s shoulder and nodded. “Hi, Brittany.” Then his eyes moved back to Santana’s face. “Santana.” 

“What do you want?” Santana snarled. 

“Well, I … er …” 

“I don’t have all day, say what you have to say, so we can all move on with our lives.” 

“I … I wanted to apologize,” Finn ground out, clearly uncomfortable now. 

_Huh?_ Santana hoped her surprise didn’t show on her face. “Ooo-kaayy,” she drawled, wondering what would come next. 

Finn looked relieved, clearly thinking he was done. “We’re good then? Great. See you around.” He grinned and began to turn around. 

“Whoa,” Santana stopped him. “I thought you wanted to apologize, Hudson,” she said. “Get to it then.” 

“Bu-but, I just di—” Finn stammered, then stopped. 

Brittany gave him a hard look. “If you think _that_ was an apology, you have a lot to learn,” she said and it sounded as if she was almost sorry for him. “No wonder Rachel is always mad at you. And Blaine. And Quinn.” 

“I’m waiting,” Santana added, ignoring Finn’s look of outrage at Brittany’s words, but shooting Brittany a small smile before looking back at Finn. 

Finn composed himself and took a deep breath, obviously trying to do it right. “I’m sorry, Santana.” 

Santana nodded. She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily though. “Okay. What are you sorry for?” 

“Huh?” The confused look on Finn’s face was almost comical. 

“I want you to tell me exactly what you think you’re apologizing for, Fetus Face,” Santana poked him in the chest. “I want to know if you even realize what you did, you know … to be sure we’re even talking about the same thing.” 

“I-I … I’m sorry for losing my cool … when you kept insulting me,” Finn began, “and for saying what I did in the hallway.” 

“For saying what you did?” Santana quoted him questioningly, her voice deceptively calm. 

“Yes.” Finn nodded. “Kurt said it’s really bad to out someone, even though everyone actually already knew that—” 

“ _Kurt_ said?” Santana’s tone was still calm, a bad sign to anyone who knew her as well as Brittany did. The blonde pressed her hand a little closer to Santana’s back. 

“Yeah, I know, right,” Finn said with a chuckle. “He was totally mad and now he refuses to talk to me unless I apologize and you forgive me.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “But that’s not even the worst,” he continued. “He told his dad and my mom and now I’m like grounded for a month.” 

“Poor you.” 

Finn nodded, completely missing the biting sarcasm in Santana’s voice, and blithely continued. “What I really don’t get though is why Rachel and her dads are totally pissed. I mean this has nothing to do with them, right? But her daddy kicked me out last night and threatened to beat me up if I came back, and Rachel said she was done with me for good. She said something about me being completely insensitive to relevant issues of her life or something like that.” He trailed off, looking unsure of himself. 

_Never thought I’d agree with Berry,_ Santana thought. 

“So,” Santana said very calmly and almost conversationally. She thought she heard Brittany’s quiet “uh-oh” in her ear at her tone. _My girl knows me well._

“You’re not _really_ saying you’re sorry for outing me … because like you said everybody ‘already knew anyway’, right?” She poked Finn again, harder this time, and in complete contrast to her calm tone. 

“Ri-right,” he stammered in reflex, looking utterly confused. 

“You’re an even bigger dickhead than I thought, Lima Loser,” Santana’s snarled, all pretense gone from her voice now. “The _only_ thing you’re sorry about is the fact that your actions had consequences for once. Consequences for you. You’re _only_ apologizing so everything in your world can be okay again!” 

Santana’s voice had been steadily rising and she was close to yelling now, and she took a deep breath, so she could continue in a normal tone. “You think if I forgive you, Rachel will take you back and Kurt will be nice again and you won’t be grounded any longer!” 

Santana’s free hand slowly curled into a fist, but before she could do any damage with it, Brittany took the hand and gently squeezed it. 

“Don’t, San,” she breathed into Santana’s ear. “He’s just an idiot.” 

Santana gave Brittany a look over her shoulder and nodded. Then she faced Finn again. “The sad thing is I’m not even surprised,” she said, her voice calm again. “Berry is right, you truly are an insensitive idiot. What you did to me was _completely_ unforgivable, so no, I don’t forgive you and I never will. Consider your half-assed so-called apology not accepted.” 

She looked around at the half-circle that had formed around them during their talk and smothered a grin when she saw that everyone was trying to look busy with something. She thought she saw Rachel and Quinn standing together at the far end of the hallway, Quinn grinning and Rachel looking slightly bewildered, and she spotted Kurt and Blaine nearby as well. She did a double take when Blaine gave her a thumbs-up. _What the hell?_

“You know,” she addressed Finn, just loudly enough for him, Rory, and Brittany to hear, “if anything good came out of all of this than it’s the fact that other people now realize what a complete loser asshole you are. And that almost, _almost_ makes it worth it.” 

With that she turned and walked away, pulling Brittany along by their clasped hands. They were almost around the corner when she heard Finn yell. “I did you a favor, you coward! You’re the bitch who kept coming after me – I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the good guy here and everyone knows it!” 

Santana stopped and turned around, fury written all over her body. Brittany dropped her books as soon as she saw the look in Santana’s eyes and grabbed both of her girlfriend’s arms to hold her in position. “San,” she whispered. “San, don’t, please. You could already be in trouble for hitting him.” She looked into furious brown eyes. “Let me go talk to him for a sec. I’ll take care of this. I’ll explain to him, so he gets it once and for all.” 

Santana hesitated, unwilling to drag Brittany into this. But then she remembered what Brittany had said about wanting to be there for her, and she figured in some ways this _was_ Brittany’s fight as well. She looked into clouded blue eyes and nodded. 

Brittany turned and walked over to where Finn was standing, talking to Rory, probably complaining about how nobody treated him right. The crowd was still there, mostly because everyone was waiting for Santana to go all Lima Heights on Finn. 

When Brittany reached Finn, she put her hands on his shoulders as if to hug him. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Finn,” she said quietly and very seriously when she was close to his face. “Outing people is wrong. It doesn’t really matter if people already know or think they know. And not realizing how wrong it was? That’s even more wrong.” With that, she pulled back her right leg and kneed him in the groin with as much power as her dancer’s build could manage, and then abruptly let go of him. 

She waited until he had crumpled onto the floor, then turned around and walked away. She heard him squeal all the way back to Santana. 

“You’re freakin’ awesome,” was all Santana said before she kissed Brittany in full view of everyone. 

Spanish class was uneventful. Santana took some notes, partly for Brittany but mostly for show. Mr. Schue knew she didn’t need his Spanish class and she was there because she’d get an A just for breathing and to support Brittany who, thanks to Santana, was also doing remarkably well in Spanish. Even if she did draw sombreros on her papers … next to the correct answers. 

Brittany divided her time between listening to Mr. Schue drone on and on about adjectives or adverbs or something like that she didn’t really care about and watching the rest of the people in her class. Her left hand was in almost constant contact with Santana – arm, hand, leg and back again – and they kept looking at each other. Brittany had a feeling they wouldn’t make it through the school day without a visit to the Cheerios locker room. Not after their morning got interrupted by her mother and after all the excitement just now. 

It wasn’t so much that all she wanted was sex, Brittany thought, but ever since the outing she had felt the need to be even closer to Santana and she had a feeling Santana was feeling the need as well. Maybe it was because they could be open about their affection now, and Brittany didn’t have to hold back any more. If she wanted to kiss Santana, she could. If she felt that pull in her body towards Santana, she could just follow the feeling. That thought reminded her of something. 

“San?” she whispered. 

Santana shivered as the warm breath caressed her ear. “Yes, Britt?” _Don’t look at her now or you’ll drag her off somewhere._ The constant touching and the looks already had Santana on edge. 

Brittany noticed Santana’s reaction and moved even closer, not caring the least bit that they were in class. Her tongue touched Santana’s ear when she spoke. “Do you think we have, like, opposite magnets in our bodies, you and me?” 

Santana swallowed and her fingers gripped the pen so tightly her knuckles were white. She didn’t dare turn towards Brittany, afraid of what she might do with their faces so close, but she couldn’t ignore her either. She settled for a simple and eloquent “huh?” 

“I sometimes feel like our bodies are pulling us together like there are magnets inside of us somewhere here,” Brittany explained as her hand pressed against Santana’s toned stomach. She grinned at her girlfriend’s almost inaudible moan. “Like last night and this morning,” she paused to move her hand a little lower, “and like right now … I think my body just decides it wants to be close to you.” 

“Your body, huh?” Santana closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She could see where Brittany was coming from, she had felt the pull, too, and right now all she could think was that she was aroused as hell and needed to feel Brittany close to her. _Hm_ _, I guess that proves Britt’s point._ She tried to suppress a groan when Brittany moved her hand again, trailing a line along her inner thigh down to her knee. 

“Maybe.” Santana paused to swallow, “Maybe we do have magnets inside. I can feel them, too.” 

She finally turned her head to look at Brittany. Their noses almost touched and Santana could see that her girlfriend’s eyes were a deeper shade of blue. She couldn’t stop staring into them, seeing so much of Brittany’s thoughts and feelings in them. Her gaze dropped to Brittany’s lips and she moved closer without even noticing it. 

The shrill sound of the bell ripped them out of their little bubble just in time. Without a word they both grabbed their books, stood up, and raced out of the classroom before Mr. Schuester could even finish giving them their homework assignments. 

They ran through the hallway towards the Cheerios locker, giggling, hands locked tightly. Santana pushed the door open carefully, checking around for Coach Sylvester or other Cheerios, but they were in luck. 

Brittany pulled Santana deeper into the room right into the corner that had a padded bench. They had made use of that bench countless times before, but to Santana this time felt different. She slowed Brittany down a little, just holding her for a second. 

“What?” Brittany looked at her curiously. 

“Nothing,” Santana whispered, “I just wanted to look at you for a second.” She hugged Brittany tightly for a moment, then cupped her face in her hands and slowly leaned in to bring their lips together in a soft kiss. 

“You know I love you, right?” Santana asked earnestly when they parted. “So much.” 

“I love you, too,” Brittany murmured before pulling Santana even closer and crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. They broke for breath again after a moment, both panting. 

“I love you, I do,” Brittany moaned, “but right now I just really, really want you.” She grabbed Santana’s Cheerios top and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it on the bench. She admired Santana’s toned body with a growl. “You’re so hot, San.” 

Santana ripped off Brittany’s top and bra, suddenly needing to feel their naked bodies pressed together. Brittany moved them backwards until Santana’s knees hit the bench and she sat down heavily, her head hitting the wall behind her. Santana didn’t notice – her whole focus was on the blonde girl straddling her lap. She leaned forward and caught one of Brittany’s nipples in her mouth, sucking, nipping, licking greedily, and enjoying the moans Brittany couldn’t hold back. 

“I want you so much, Britt,” Santana moaned between kisses and nips. “I’ve been wanting you since this morning.” 

Brittany pulled Santana’s head up to catch her mouth in a hungry, deep, open-mouthed kiss. “Less talking,” she panted against Santana’s mouth between kisses, “more sexing.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Santana kissed a path down Brittany’s neck, alternating licks and sucks, trying only half-heartedly not to leave a mark. She relished in every moan Brittany made, every sigh just made her hotter, wetter, made her crave more of … everything. 

Brittany got up from Santana’s lap and chuckled when she heard Santana’s disappointed groan, which turned into an appreciative moan when Brittany dropped the rest of clothes and made short work of Santana’s. She pushed Santana sideways onto the padded bench and crawled on top of her. 

“I want to feel you inside of me now, San,” Brittany rasped, pressing a knee against Santana’s center. “I want to feel you so deep inside, so close that I can feel our magnets click.” 

Santana simply groaned, her brain hearing nothing but “deep” and “inside”. She pushed her hand between their bodies, just as she felt Brittany’s touch on herself. She growled when she felt how incredibly ready Brittany was for her, knowing that Brittany could feel her hot, slick wetness at the same time. “Gods, Britt,” she ground out, her voice husky, “you’re so wet.” 

“Always, for you,” Brittany groaned, straining to feel more of Santana. “Please, fuck me, baby … I need you.” 

Santana pushed two fingers deeply into Brittany, as deep as she could given their position, and felt Brittany push into her as well, exactly mirroring her speed and force. “Fuck, Britt … God, I need you so fucking bad … please, harder.” 

Brittany picked up the speed and force of her fingers, although she was beginning to have trouble focusing on anything except for the feeling Santana’s fingers created in her when she mirrored Brittany’s speed. “More, San,” she groaned, “more …” 

Santana pulled out and pushed three fingers into Brittany as hard, deep, and fast as she could, knowing in a second Brittany would do the same to her. She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming when she felt herself stretched deliciously a moment later. “So good,” she mumbled, “so fucking good, Britt.” 

“Can’t get enough of you,” Brittany whispered, “never … can … get … enough.” She began to shake, both from exertion and arousal. “So close, San … so close.” 

“Can’t … much longer … Britt,” Santana growled, her voice almost a purr. When Brittany’s thumb pressed down on her clit, she had to bite on her lip again. “I’m … oh fuck, Britt … gonna … right there … yeah … Madre de Dios … I’m going to …” She kept up a constant stream of words, not even registering what she was saying. She was so close to what she knew was going to be an incredible orgasm. 

“San … San … I’m so close …” Brittany was straining atop her girlfriend, trying to focus on Santana but finding herself unable to when her own pleasure reached fever pitch. When Santana circled her clit with her thumb and pressed down rhythmically, she exploded in a colorful orgasm, mouth wide open in a silent scream. 

Seeing Brittany come pushed Santana over the edge as well. The climax hit her with such force that she had to press her mouth against Brittany’s shoulder in an attempt to keep quiet. 

They both collapsed completely, bodies relaxing bonelessly after a few moments. Santana could feel the aftershocks of Brittany’s orgasm through her fingers and suspected Brittany could feel hers as well. She smiled and moved her head from Brittany’s shoulder so she could kiss a trail up her throat towards her mouth. 

They kissed slowly, languidly for a long time, enjoying their moment together, before the world outside the locker room made itself known in loud noises from the hallway. Brittany pulled her fingers out, carefully, which left Santana sighing, but following suit. Santana brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them clean. “I love how you taste,” she murmured. “Too bad we don’t have time now.” 

Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana, greedily chasing after her taste from Santana’s mouth. “Hmm,” she agreed when they parted. “Tonight though.” 

“Tonight.” 

Brittany disentangled herself from Santana and stood, lightly pulling her girlfriend to her feet. “Take a shower with me?” she asked. 

Santana just grinned and walked over to the showers. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm still only borrowing the girls to let them have some fun.

It was closer to lunchtime than expected when they finally left the locker room and Santana blushed a little inside at the thought of having missed half a day. _Guess we don’t do quickies any more._

They ran into Quinn right outside the door. “Ah, finally,” the ex-Cheerio said with a grin, pushing off from the locker she was leaning against. “I thought you’d never come out of there.” 

“What are you talking about?” Santana’s asked in a bitchy tone. 

“Oh, come off it, Santana,” Quinn scoffed. “After that almost scene you two made in Spanish class? And it’s not like I haven’t known for years where you two run off to when you need to–” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Remember that time I actually walked in on you?” Quinn made a disgusted face. “Not one of my favorite memories. That image is probably going to stay with me for the rest of my life.” She pretended to shudder in disgust. 

“Perv,” Santana said with a smirk. “I’m not too fond of it either, believe me,” Santana added quietly after a second. She had felt a little bad for a very pregnant and possibly hormonal Quinn that day, but not bad enough to stop using the locker room. It was just so much more convenient than the janitor’s closet. 

“Anyway--” Quinn began with a smile, getting back to the topic at hand. 

“Why are you being so nice to us suddenly?” Santana interrupted. “You haven’t even talked to us in a few weeks really.” _Especially to me._

“Can we be the Unholy Trinity again?” Brittany added with a hopeful expression. “I miss being us, Quinn.” 

Quinn chuckled. “Let’s just say I went crazy for a while and I’m trying to claw my way back to sanity now.” She smiled at Brittany. “We’re always going to be the Unholy Trinity, B.” 

Brittany let go of Santana’s hand and hugged Quinn. “Yay!” 

Santana saw the seriousness in Quinn’s eyes at the “crazy” comment and decided to try and talk to her again later. She sent her a smile over Brittany’s shoulder and nodded once when Quinn’s eyes met hers. _I’ll tell you later,_ those hazel eyes seemed to say. 

“Anyway,” Quinn continued after Brittany released her, “the reason why I’m waiting for you here is that everyone is looking for you guys.” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

“Figgins, Mr. Shue, Ms. Corcoran, Coach Sylvester … you get the drift,” Quinn explained. “From what I’ve heard Finn has been complaining about you to everyone with ears. I think you might be in trouble because of that slap you dished out to him yesterday, not that I blame you … and because of this morning, too.” The final bit was addressed to Brittany. 

“I don’t understand why San is in trouble,” Brittany asked, her nose scrunched up. “Finn is the one who hurt her.” 

“Yeah, he did,” Quinn said, “but he didn’t hit either of you, and you did.” 

“He did something _way_ worse,” Santana grumbled, “and he doesn’t even realize it.” 

Quinn sighed. “I know. Rachel said that Finn actually said something about having done you a favor.” She rolled her eyes. “She said that she hadn’t seen her fathers this mad at someone in years, and that they threw him out of the house. He’s just clueless, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you into trouble for hitting him.” 

“Rachel, huh?” Santana asked with a knowing grin, remembering them together in the hallway earlier. 

“ _That’s_ the bit you’re taking away from what I’ve said?” Quinn blushed a little. “I’m trying to be nicer to _everyone_ , okay? Let it go.” 

Santana shrugged. “Fine with me.” Her grin turned sly. “I bet she’s better company than any of the guys anyway … and you _said_ you didn’t want anything to do with boys any more, so …” She waggled her eyebrows. 

“Stop it, Santana.” Quinn’s voice dropped to a growl, but Santana just grinned and lightly slapped her shoulder. 

“It’s all good, Q, no worries.” 

Quinn looked at her for a moment, waiting for some snarky comment, but when none came, she turned to Brittany. “Thank you,” she said simply. 

“For what?” Brittany looked confused. 

“For taming the beast,” Quinn replied, pointing her thumb at Santana. 

“Hey, I’m right here,” Santana complained and visibly bristled. “And I can damn well still go—” 

“Honey,” Brittany whispered close to Santana’s ear and the diatribe stopped as suddenly as it had started. 

“Hmm?” Santana turned to Britt. 

Brittany kissed her cheek and both she and Quinn chuckled at the smitten look on Santana’s face. “Remember, Quinn’s our friend. You shouldn’t be mean to her.” 

“You are _so_ whipped, Santana,” Quinn said with a smile, holding up her hand when Santana looked like she wanted to object. “I mean that in the best possible way, really. Love looks good on you … both of you.” 

Santana couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so she just shrugged and gave Quinn a self-deprecating grin. She suspected it was true. It certainly looked good on Brittany. 

“Well, I think you two better go see what trouble you’re in,” Quinn reminded them after a few quiet moments. “See you at lunch?” 

“Sure,” Santana nodded, feeling uneasy about talking to the teachers. She didn’t feel like she had done anything wrong, but she also knew that her reputation might make it difficult for the teachers to see things her way. 

“Come on, Britt,” she said, taking Brittany’s hand and pulling her along the hallway. 

Santana knew she shouldn’t be nervous. She was still the HBIC, wasn’t she? Then why were her hands getting a little clammy? And why couldn’t she quell the thoughts that she might not be able to talk her way out of trouble? Not to mention getting Brittany out of trouble, too. She sighed and felt an increased pressure on her hand in response. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Brittany said quietly, but confidently. “You’ll see.” 

Santana just nodded and squeezed Brittany’s hand, too wrapped up in her thoughts to reply. 

They rounded the corner and found themselves facing Coach Sylvester, Mr. Shuester and Shelby Corcoran who all seemed to be staring at each other uncomfortably. Off to the side they could see Finn, who smirked when he spotted them. 

“There they are,” he said, pointing in their direction. 

Santana and Brittany stopped dead in their tracks as all eyes swiveled to them. After a second Santana nodded to herself, once, straightened her spine and walked over to the teachers. 

“We heard you wanted to see us?” Her voice was calm as she addressed them. She looked mostly at Shelby Corcoran, the one she had at least a little belief in. 

“Yes,” Mr. Shuester replied. “Looks like there are some issues we need to address.” 

“Let’s go into the principal’s office,” Shelby Corcoran added with a small smile, her voice reassuring. 

The air inside Figgins’ office felt stifling with so many people inside, many of whom decided to start talking at the same time. Santana and Brittany, still holding hands, surreptitiously moved to the side of the office, trying to just blend into the surroundings until they were called upon. 

“This is really weird,” Brittany whispered so low Santana almost didn’t hear it. “Why are they all so mad? Why is everyone yelling at everybody else? Aren’t they supposed to be mad at us?” 

Santana shrugged. “I have no idea, baby.” 

“I wish Ms. Holiday was here,” Brittany said suddenly. “She was the only sane teacher at this school, like, ever.” 

Santana giggled because, _yeah_ , of course Brittany thought Holly Holiday was the sanest teacher around. _And maybe she was._ Santana felt herself agreeing with Brittany’s wish. _Having Ms. Holiday around to talk to would be nice._ She was sort of waiting for Ms. Corcoran to fill those shoes, but she didn’t trust her yet the way she had trusted Ms. Holiday. 

“Yes, it would be great to have her back,” she told Brittany quietly, just as Principal Figgins held up his hands to shut everyone up and turned to them. 

“Ms. Lopez, Ms. Pierce, you are here because you attacked Mr. Hudson twice in two days and that is behavior we cannot condone at this school under any circumstances. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

Santana looked at everyone before focusing on the principal. _Glad to see they’re all sticking up for us,_ she sneered inside. She didn’t take Figgins seriously for a second, but she knew she needed to stay calm and had to come up with something to get them out of trouble. _Maybe she should give the truth a chance?_

“Yes, I slapped Finn,” she admitted, ignoring the surprise on the faces of Finn and Mr. Shue, who probably had expected her to lie her way out of this. “But I did have a good reason for it.” 

“And what might that reason have been?” Figgins asked. 

“Fe..Finn outed me in a crowded hallway, resulting in my sexual orientation becoming public knowledge,” Santana stated calmly. 

“But everybody already knew anyway,” Finn said as if the whole thing was no big deal. 

“Not all of _Ohio_ , you moron,” Santana shouted back. 

“What are you talking about?” Figgins, Shelby, and Finn asked simultaneously. 

“A student who heard Fetus Face’s comment gave the info to her uncle who is running against me for congress,” Sue replied before Santana could open her mouth. “He used that information in a campaign ad.” 

All eyes went to Santana who felt increasingly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “That’s why you slapped him?” Shelby Corcoran asked, her eyes full of sympathy. 

Santana just nodded. “I was … it was just so unfair.” 

“I see,” Figgins said, leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped together in front of him. “That’s still not a reason to hit somebody, Ms. Lopez.” 

“Why not? He deserved it,” came a voice from the door. 

Everybody turned around to see Rachel, Quinn and most of the New Directions and some of the Troubletones standing in the hallway. It was Rachel who had spoken, much to the surprise of everyone inside the office. 

Finn looked extremely uncomfortable. “Rach,” he began, but he didn’t get any further. 

“We heard there was some sort of interrogation going on here,” Kurt said, “and we thought it might be good to offer our … insight in case you needed it.” 

“Since all of us were there this morning, for example,” Quinn added, “and none of you were.” 

Figgins looked resigned when her waved at the two show choirs to come into the room. When everyone was settled into the increasingly cramped office he nodded at Finn. “I think we can safely say that yesterday’s slap for you, Mr. Hudson, was somewhat justified.” 

Finn looked like he wanted to complain but Mr. Shue shot him a warning look. 

Figgins looked at Quinn and Rachel now. “However, there’s the matter of this morning’s even more serious altercation.” He vaguely pointed in Brittany’s direction. “Care to share your point of view on that, Ms. Fabray, Ms. Berry?” 

Santana spoke up before either of the two could answer. “Excuse me, shouldn’t Britt and I be explaining that?” She looked at everyone in turn. “You know, just because it was about us?” 

“You’re just going to say that it was my fault again,” Finn said from his place on the couch, receiving a slap on the shoulder from Kurt. “Ey!” 

“Because it was,” Brittany said calmly. “You told San that she was a coward and that you did her a favor.” She shrugged. “You hurt her and as her girlfriend it was my job to do something about that.” 

Quinn decided to jump in. “That’s pretty much what happened, Mr. Figgins.” She sounded extremely polite and Santana realized at once why she was the quasi spokeswoman for the show choir members present. She saw all of them nodding, Mercedes and Sugar more vigorously than anyone else. She sent them a smile and thought she caught one on Shelby’s face as well. 

“That still doesn’t give anyone the right to hit or kick another student,” Figgins said loudly. “We have a zero tolerance policy for violence at this school, and you both should be suspended!” 

“Oh, please, Figgy,” Sue scoffed. “We also have a zero tolerance policy against bullying, which is what Finn was doing, if you think about it.” She smiled evilly. “Which means that either he gets suspended, too, or none of them are.” 

“You can’t suspend me,” Finn shouted. “We have Sectionals next week!” 

“And we need him,” Mr. Shue hastily interjected. “He’s our co-captain.” 

Santana rolled her eyes and saw Quinn doing the same. _Of course, Mr. Shue would come to_ his _aid, not hers._

Figgins seemed to think things over. “If the three of you apologize to each other, I’d be willing to let it go … just this once!” 

“Fine,” Santana said with a sigh. “I’m going to be the bigger person here. I’m sorry for _hitting_ you because you outed me to all of Ohio.” Her voice was at her snarky best. _I should have tossed you in a dumpster instead. Naked. Dipped in honey so all the worms in there find you._

“What she said,” Brittany added, looking bored, and Figgins nodded because … well, it was Brittany, after all. 

Finn looked like he’d rather go to the dentist when it was his turn. “Fine. I apologize for outing you, even though everyone already—” 

Both Puck and Kurt slapped him on the shoulder, hard, Santana smirked, and Figgins looked happy. 

_This solves absolutely nothing,_ Santana thought, _but at least Britt and I can go on with our lives now._ “Can we go to lunch now?” she asked politely. 

Figgins made shooing motions with his hands, looking relieved at having another crisis averted, even if he really didn’t do anything about it. 

Outside his office Santana stopped Coach Sylvester with a hand on her arm. “Thanks for sticking up for us, Coach,” she said quietly. 

Sue Sylvester gave her a suspiciously friendly look. “Well, I do feel somewhat responsible for my incredibly minuscule part in all of this, and I need my co-captain and my best dancer, so …” She let her sentence trail off and turned to leave. “I expect you two to be extra … cheery … during practice in the coming weeks no matter what,” she added over her shoulder and quickly walked away. 

Santana grimaced, expecting some very uncheerful practices in the near future. When she turned around she saw Quinn and the others watching her. “Thanks for being there for us,” she murmured quietly to Quinn, simply knowing that it had been her doing. 

“You’re welcome,” Quinn replied, equally as quietly. “You know you can’t trust teachers to handle these things.” Her grin managed to be both cheeky and exasperated. “They’re clueless.” 

They both chuckled. “True that,” Santana agreed. She looked at Brittany who was staring off into the distance. She took her hand to get her attention. “Lunch?” she asked when Brittany looked at her. 

“Finally!” Brittany smiled brightly and pulled her towards the cafeteria. 

They had lunch sitting with Mercedes, Sugar, Quinn and, surprisingly, Rachel, which wasn’t as bad as Santana had expected it to be. All of them took turns staring daggers at Finn who was sitting in a corner with Rory, but that became pretty boring after a while, even for Santana. 

After lunch, they had to go through one more class before glee practice and Santana seriously thought about skipping it, but Brittany liked Geography, so they went. 

When they walked towards their _choir room_ , which was just a fancy name for some random classroom that Ms. Corcoran had somehow managed to get her hands on, Santana saw Quinn and Rachel walking towards the _real_ choir room and for the first time in weeks she found herself missing the old glee club. _Yes,_ she was singing more now, and _yes,_ Ms. Corcoran was a hundred times better than Mr. Shuester at _everything_ , but … but today had shown her that the original glee club somehow still managed to be what Brittany called a family. 

“I miss them, too,” Brittany said quietly next to her as they entered their choir room. 

Santana gave Brittany a look. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?” 

“I don’t.” Brittany shrugged. “If I had known what you were thinking, say, around this time last year, we would be celebrating our first anagram by now.” 

“Anniversary,” Santana automatically corrected, not sure what to think. _Would they have gotten together if somehow Britt had been able to tell that she had been in denial?_ She watched Brittany as she danced around the classroom, pulling Sugar and Mercedes into some weird dance routine that only Brittany could make look good. _Who am I kidding? Of course we would have gotten together._ She chuckled quietly. _I could never say no to her._

Santana’s phone rang as she and Brittany made their way over to her car. 

“Hey, mija,” her mother greeted her. “I just wanted to hear how you’re doing.” 

“I’m fine, mom,” Santana replied as she opened the passenger door of her car for Brittany. “Don’t worry, okay?” 

“I will always worry.” Her mother’s voice was serious. “That is my prerogative as your mother.” She paused and Santana could hear paper shuffling in the background. “Listen, I talked to Annie last night and we agreed that you can stay with Brittany for as long as you want.” 

“You talked to Britt’s mom?” 

“Yes, of course. You _do_ remember that we’re friends, right?” Maria Lopez chuckled when her daughter didn’t reply. “Must have slipped your mind.” 

_Must have._ Santana had to admit that she hadn’t had any interest in her parents’ friends, so she didn’t know who they were hanging out with these days. She remembered that they’d had BBQs together as families when they were younger, but she and Britt had stopped going to them a while ago. And with her and Brittany being so close as kids, she figured it made sense that their parents were friendly. She just didn’t know they actually _talked_ to each other pretty regularly or so it seemed. 

“I didn’t know you were friends, mom,” Santana said quietly, feeling a little bad for some reason. 

“It’s all right, Sanny,” her mother reassured her. “Don’t feel bad. Most of our friendship is quite separate from you children. We do have lives, too, you know, even if you think we’re older than God.” She laughed. 

“So I can stay with Brittany?” Santana wanted to get back to the point, so they could get into the car and go home. 

“Yes, unless you want to come home, of course. Then we’d have to find a solution.” 

“How is _mi abuelita_? Has she said anything?” Santana asked quietly, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. “Has she changed her mind?” 

Santana suddenly felt Brittany’s hand at the small of her back, making circles. She turned a little to see Brittany standing next to her. She hadn’t even heard her getting back out of the car. 

“Everything okay?” Brittany mouthed. 

Santana nodded, but held on tight to Brittany’s free hand before her girlfriend could walk back around the car. “Stay, please?” she mouthed back. 

Brittany simply moved a step closer. Santana closed her eyes as she focused on her mother again. 

“No, Sanny, she hasn’t.” Maria Lopez sounded regretful. “And right now I’m not sure what to do or say to make her, frankly.” 

Santana leaned back into Brittany. “So, even if I wanted to come home, I couldn’t.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Her mother sighed. “We’ve started looking for a small apartment for her, not too far from our neighborhood, but so far we haven’t found anything suitable. I’ll let you know as soon as we have news, Sanny.” Her voice started to sound distracted. “Sorry, mija, I have to go. There’s a call I have to take on the other line. Talk to you later.” 

“Yeah, later,” Santana said to the dead line before throwing the phone into her car through the open door. 

“What’s going on, babe?” Brittany asked quietly. 

Santana smiled. “Babe?” She turned around to face Brittany, ignoring the question. “Since when do you call me that?” 

“I wanted to make you smile,” Brittany said with a shrug and a grin. “And I sometimes call you babe when we’re having sex … but that’s mostly when you’re very close to coming, so maybe you forgot.” 

_Oh, God._ Santana just barely managed to bite back a moan as images and sounds flooded her brain. _One day she’s going to be the death of me._ “I remember,” Santana croaked through a suddenly dry throat. “Let’s go home, okay?” 

Brittany nodded and walked around the car to the passenger side. “Home,” she said as she got in. “I like it when you say that … _home_.” She closed the door and fastened her seat belt. “Makes me think of our own house one day. You know, a cute little house with like six children and a puppy and a duck pond in the backyard,” she finished dreamily. 

Completely missing Santana’s gulp and wide-eyed stare. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't anything but the particular combination of words on this page.

There was nothing in the world that Santana would have loved more than taking Brittany upstairs to her room – their room now – and make love to her, revved up as her body was after Brittany’s little comment, but unfortunately Annie and Katlyn, Brittany’s little sister, were home and distracted them before they could sneak up the stairs. 

“Come color with me, San,” Katlyn shouted from the kitchen table. “Come!” 

Santana sighed quietly, but shot Katlyn a smile and walked over, dropping her backpack on a chair. “What are we coloring, little Kat?” 

“Ducks!” Kat her Santana her brightest gap-toothed smile. “Here you can have the blue crayon.” 

Santana took the crayon, knowing better than to mention that there probably wasn’t much blue to use on a duck. But who knew, maybe there was a bluish duck species somewhere. 

“Ooh, ducks,” Brittany cooed over Katlyn’s shoulder before she walked around the table to sit down next to Santana. “Can I help?” 

“Sure,” Katlyn replied without looking up from her coloring book. 

Two seconds later Brittany and Katlyn were busy coloring different sections of the same duck on the page while Santana looked on with a smile. _Maybe children and a duck pond wouldn’t be so bad_ , she mused. _But I’m drawing the line at two kids … and Britt’s having them! And not before we’re like 30._

Annie Pierce watched the scene with a content smile. She was glad that Santana was always nice to Katlyn, even though the youngest Pierce could be a handful at times. But as rude and abrasive she had heard Santana could be, she had never been anything but pleasant in their home. She thought back to a day over ten years ago. 

_Brittany raced home after her play date with Santana, straight into her mother’s waiting arms. “Hey, kleintje, how was your day?”_

_“It was fun, mom,” Brittany replied. “Can I have some apple juice? I’m thirty!”_

_“You’re thirsty?” Annie asked with a laugh as she walked over to the fridge. “What did you do, run around the whole time?”_

_“I hads to chase Sanny the whole time,” Britt got out between gulps of juice. “She runned away.”_

_“Why did she run away, sweetie?” Annie was only half-listening at this point. She knew Brittany would tell her everything about her time with Santana in great detail without any prompts from her anyway, so she got busy preparing their dinner._

_“I wanted to kiss her and she said I had to getch her first.”_

_“Getch?”_

_“Hmm, catch her and get her,” Brittany said absent-mindedly. “Mom, why do people use two words when you can make one nice word out of them?”_

_Annie smiled. “Because people want to use words that other people know,” she explained. “If you make up words that the other people don’t know, they can’t understand you.”_

_“Oh.” Brittany seemed to think for a moment. “Sanny always understands me.”_

_Annie nodded. It didn’t surprise her one little bit. The two girls seemed to have an extraordinary bond, even at five years old. “Is that why you wanted to kiss her?”_

_“Hm,” Brittany hummed dreamily. “And because I love Sanny, mom … and you can kiss people you love, right?”_

_For a fraction of a second Annie wasn’t sure what to say because as much fun as that would make life, no you usually couldn’t just run around kissing people you love._ But how do I explain that to Britt? _So in the end she settled for, “If they want that, too, then yes.”_

_“But you deffily can kiss the people you marry?”_

_“Yes, honey, you can definitely kiss the person you’re married to,” Annie confirmed._

_“I’m going to marry Sanny,” Brittany said, quite matter-of-factly. “So it’s okay to kiss her.”_

_“You want to marry Santana?” Annie asked with a small smile, with just a small pause in her pasta-stirring. She smiled, not really taking the whole conversation too seriously. “And when do you think that’s going to be, young lady?”_

_Brittany giggled. “Don’t know … when we’re old enough, I guess.” Her voice was thoughtful. “How old is old enough?”_

_Uh-oh._

Annie looked at the scene in front of her and wondered if Brittany was still planning on asking Santana as soon as she could. She hadn’t taken Brittany seriously at the time – she was only five years old, after all – but the more she had watched Brittany and Santana as they grew up together, grew closer, and got more … complicated, the more she had the feeling that Brittany had known exactly what she was saying back then. 

That’s why she wasn’t surprised when their relationship had turned sexual, a fact she had known for a couple of years. Having a tendency to get up at night to get a glass of water and _not_ having the luxury of being deaf had definitely helped that particular discovery along. _At least Santana can’t get her pregnant, unlike those boys. Oh, the advantages of being the mother of a gay teenager._ She grinned. 

\------------------------ 

Dinner was a quiet and pleasant affair. Rory had called to say that he was hanging out with Finn for dinner. He got Annie’s permission to stay the night if it got too late, much to Santana’s delight. Any minute the tiny Irish kid didn’t spend in close proximity to Brittany was a good one in her book. 

Brittany shrugged when Santana said as much as they sat on Brittany’s bed after dinner, doing their homework. She put down her _U.S. Government_ textbook and looked at Santana. “You do know that you don’t have to worry about Rory, right?” She waited for her girlfriend to meet her eyes. “I love you and nobody stands a chance against you, especially not a pretend leprechaun.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Santana grinned and pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her right ear. “It’s just … I don’t know … he’s Finn’s new best friend and I don’t trust Finn at all … and I guess that makes me uncomfortable.” 

Brittany took Santana’s hand. “I don’t like Finn either, but he’s not going to go away.” She brushed her lips against Santana’s in a brief, gentle kiss. “You need to learn to live with him around, Santana, at least for a while.” 

“I know,” Santana almost whined. “At least I’m not the bad guy for a change.” 

Brittany made a non-committal sound in her throat. “I was glad that the glee club and the Troubletones were there for you today. That was really good to see.” 

“They were there for _us_ , Britt, and probably more for you than me, but yeah, that felt good.” _Really good, in fact._

Brittany pulled Santana into a hug. “When are you going to learn that they’re your friends, too?” 

Santana chuckled darkly. “Maybe when they stop being happy when I get kicked out of glee club or stop telling me that I’ll end up working a pole.” 

“Rachel was being an idiot, we both know that,” Brittany said soothingly. She was the only one who knew just how much that remark had hurt Santana, no matter how far off the mark it was. Out of everyone in glee club, Santana probably was one of the kids who would definitely get out of Lima and make something of herself. Brittany had always known that. She had always just sort of hoped that she featured in Santana’s plans somehow. 

Brittany sighed. They should talk about their future soon. She knew that all she wanted to do is dance and be close to Santana, but she wasn’t sure what Santana had in mind. With a doctor for a father and a lawyer for a mother, it wouldn’t be unexpected if she went down one of those paths, but truth be told Brittany had a hard time picturing Santana as anything but a performer. Anything else would be just such a waste of talent in her eyes. Santana was so … alive when she was on a stage. 

She made a mental note to sit down with Santana and possibly her parents to talk about the future, maybe the coming weekend. She needed to think about all of that a bit more first, though. She just hoped she could keep herself from blurting out that they should just get married. _Married student housing was probably cheaper anyway, wasn’t it? But then we’d have to find a school in the same place. As if anything else was even an option …_

“What are you thinking about, Britt?” Santana asked when Brittany had been silent for a while, seemingly deep in thought. 

“Nothing really.” 

Santana tilted her head in question. “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” Brittany nodded empathically. “San, could you maybe sing me something?” 

Santana’s brow creased at the sudden change in topic, but she knew from experience that it wouldn’t do any good to try and get Brittany to talk about what was really on her mind at this point. _And I know she wasn’t thinking about “nothing” just now. She’s probably worried I’m going to murder Finn or Rory or something._

“You know I’m going to try and be nicer to everyone, right?” _It was worth a try, wasn’t it?_ “And if all else fails, you can still be everyone’s hero and be the Santana charmer, the beast tamer, so everyone should be safe from me, right?” 

Brittany looked at her, confused. “Yeah, I guess so.” She paused. “Does that mean you don’t want to sing?” 

Santana laughed at both of them and their miscommunication. “No, baby. It just means I lost track of our conversation for a minute.” 

“Oh, good.” Brittany beamed. 

Santana jumped off the bed. “In fact, let me just grab my … fuck.” 

“What’s wrong, San?” 

“My guitar is still at my parents’ house.” Santana smacked her palm against her forehead. “Didn’t even think about that when we left.” 

“Oh,” Brittany mumbled. She watched Santana carefully before coming out with her suggestion. “We could drive over and get it, if you want.” 

Santana looked out the window and Brittany had no idea what she was thinking. After a minute or so Santana faced Brittany and simply said, “Yes, let’s do it.” 

“You sure?” Brittany subconsciously mimicked Santana’s earlier question. 

“Yeah,” Santana breathed. “It’s not like they kicked me out of the house, so I can go back to get stuff. Mom even told me so. I don’t even know if my parents are home yet … it’s only 8 pm.” She sighed. “I just hope we don’t run into my abuela. I’m not sure I’m up for that today.” 

“And I’ll be there by your side even if she’s there.” Brittany smiled at Santana and got up from the bed. She jumped up and down a couple of times to get rid of some excess energy. “Too bad we can’t bring your piano as well.” 

Santana laughed and pulled on her shoes. “That would be sweet, but it would require a few more people. It is a baby grand, after all.” She opened the door and took Brittany’s hand. “Also, I’m not sure my mother would like that.” 

“Mari wouldn’t like what?” Brittany’s mother asked from the hallway, overhearing the last part of the conversation. 

“If Santana brought the piano from her house over to ours,” Brittany replied with a smile. 

“Your grandfather’s Steinway?” Annie laughed. “No, she probably wouldn’t like that. She loves that thing.” 

“I know,” Santana said quietly. It was one of the things she and her mother – and her abuela – had in common. “That’s why we’re just going to go and grab my guitar. Britt here wants a private concert,” she added with a wink. 

“My daughter is a very lucky girl.” Annie winked back, making a mental note to talk to her husband about maybe getting a used piano or at least a digital one. Maybe Katlyn would like to learn how to play, and Brittany could practice what she had picked up from Santana. “All right then, off you go. And please tell Mari and Tonio I said hi.” 

“Will do,” Santana called over her shoulder as Brittany practically dragged her down the stairs. 

“Hey, why are you in such a hurry suddenly?” she asked Brittany when they were outside by her car. 

“I don’t know,” Brittany said with a huge grin. “Maybe I just really wanted to do this?” 

She pulled Santana into a fierce kiss by the lapels of her shirt, not letting go until they were both breathless and panting. Before pulling away completely, she nipped and sucked at Santana’s lower lip, enjoying the gravelly moan that erupted from somewhere deep in her girlfriend’s throat. 

“God, Britt,” Santana husked once she had sucked enough air into her lungs to be able to speak. Her brain was a jumbled mess and all she could think about was chasing after those lips again, so she did. 

Brittany had a smug expression on her face until Santana paid her back by pulling her back in and pressing her against the passenger side of her car, one hand wrapped into blond hair and one curled around a slender waist. Her lips unerringly found Brittany’s and she put her whole body into the kiss. Her tongue traced the lower lip before licking gently at the sensitive middle of Brittany’s upper lip. With a moan, Brittany opened her mouth, allowing Santana to deepen the kiss. Santana let her tongue curl around Brittany’s, enjoying the taste and the sounds they both made. 

Santana slowed the kiss down when she ran out of breath. She gentled the touch of her lips and the grip her hands had on Brittany’s body and withdrew slowly from one of the best kisses she could remember. 

Brittany sacked down against the car, her knees wobbly. “Wow,” she breathed out, her eyes still closed. 

Santana leaned against her and pressed her lips against her temple. “Wow indeed,” she agreed, her huge smile audible in her voice and Brittany smiled in pure reaction. “Kinda sucks that we’re out here, though, and not in your nice comfy bedroom, huh?” 

Brittany’s face fell. “Shit.” 

Santana chuckled. “Shoulda thought of that before you went after me like that, baby.” She kissed Brittany again, just a peck now. “Not that I’m complaining. Not. At. All,” she added between pecks. “Because that was awesome.” 

“It would look funny if we just raced back inside, wouldn’t it?” Brittany asked. 

Santana grinned at the crestfallen look on Brittany’s face. “Yes, it would.” 

Brittany took a deep breath and straightened her body, finally trusting her legs to hold her up again. Santana helped by pulling her into a hug. “I guess we should go then,” Brittany whispered. “The sooner we get your guitar, the sooner we can get back here.” 

Santana nodded and reached around Brittany to open the door for her. She walked around to the driver’s side on slightly wobbly legs and got behind the wheel. She threw a glance at Brittany who still looked slightly dazed. “I think that kiss blew a fuse in my brain … I’m not sure I can drive,” she said and both of them laughed until they were breathless once again. 

Once the sexual tension between them was somewhat lessened Santana started the car. “If my parents aren’t home, this should be a quick in-and-out run,” she said as she turned the corner into her parents’ street. “But if they’re home, would you mind if we stayed a bit and maybe talked for a while?” 

“Of course not,” Brittany replied and squeezed Santana’s thigh. “We can stay for as long as you want.” 

Santana stopped the car in front of the Lopez residence. “Looks like they aren’t home, though,” she murmured quietly while pulling the key from the ignition. She pointed at the empty driveway and the mostly dark house. 

“Looks like nobody is,” Brittany said with a small shrug. Not running into Santana’s grandmother after the other night was a very good thing in her eyes. 

“Not sure.” Santana’s voice was still pretty quiet. “My abuela stays mostly at the back of the house where her rooms are.” She put her key in the lock. “We’ll see, I guess.” 

She opened the door and let Brittany enter before her. The medium-sized lobby was dark and Santana decided to leave it that way. She took Brittany’s hand and led her upstairs to her bedroom. 

It looked just the same as it always had, Santana thought as she turned on the light. _Don’t know why I somehow expected it to look different now._ She shrugged and walked over to the corner where her guitars were standing. She picked her favorite acoustic guitar from the stand and put it on the bed. 

“I love your room,” Brittany said into the silence. “I have some really nice memories with it in it.” 

Santana smiled. “Yeah, we had some very good times in here.” She looked at the bed almost wistfully. Their first time together had been on this bed. Come to think of it, _all_ of their firsts together had happened in this room. She watched Brittany who stared at the bed with a dreamy expression. “What are you thinking about” 

Brittany looked at her with a slight pink tinge coloring her cheeks. “I was just thinking of the first time we really kissed.” Not just pecks, on the cheek or nose or even lips like they had shared since they were little. No, the first time their tongues met in a tentative kiss, first-time jitters so obvious in both of their hesitant movements and the shaking of their hands. “I was so nervous.” 

“Me too,” Santana breathed, unconsciously moving closer to Brittany until she was standing right next to her. “But I wanted it so much that it didn’t matter.” 

“I love you, Santana,” Brittany whispered. “I’ve always loved you.” 

“I know.” Santana pulled Brittany into a tight hug. “I love you, too.” She turned her head to press her lips against Brittany’s collarbone. “I might not have always known it, or accepted it … but it’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 

Brittany wasn’t sure why, but a soft sob escaped her throat and she turned her head down to capture Santana’s lips in a kiss. She tried to express everything she felt in that kiss and maybe she was succeeding because Santana began to tremble in her arms and Brittany could swear that she could feel Santana’s feelings travel to her through their connected mouths. 

“What is going on here?” 

Santana and Brittany jumped away from each other at the sound of the angry voice coming from the doorway. 

“What are you doing here, Santana? Why do you bring your … abomination into this house?” 

“Abuela, please,” Santana pleaded, putting herself between the door and Brittany. “Can’t we just talk—” 

“Get out of this house, right now!” 

“Mrs. Lopez,” Brittany began. She moved next to Santana. “We’re not doing anything wrong.” 

“Don’t you talk to me, you … you …” 

“And you need to stop talking to my daughter and her girlfriend like that, Carmen.” Maria Lopez’ voice was deadly quiet. “Or you’ll be out of this house faster than you can say _Dios mio_ ,” she continued. “I don’t care _what_ you believe, but I will not have you spew your hatred on these girls.” 

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t heard her mother’s car or the door, but she had never been so grateful to see her, and hearing her defending her in her courtroom voice was an incredible feeling. 

Brittany could see the disgust and hatred in Carmen Lopez’ eyes, not just directed at her and Santana, but also at Santana’s mother. She had a feeling that even if the older Mrs. Lopez backed down now, this would probably have some consequences for all of them. She watched as the older woman looked at all of them in turn before leaving without a word. 

Maria Lopez walked into the room as soon as her mother-in-law was out of sight and pulled the girls into a three-way hug. “Hey, you two,” she said with a forced smile, “so sorry about that.” 

“Hey, mom,” Santana mumbled, still stunned by the short scene with her abuela. “I’m sorry we caused a scene …” 

“But we’re very happy to see you,” Brittany continued, giving Santana’s mother a genuine smile as she slowly extricated herself from the hug. “We were only picking up Santana’s guitar, honest … well, before we got carried away a little.” 

Santana blushed a little. “She saw us kissing and flipped out, sorry,” she said a little sheepishly. 

“Oh, Santana,” her mother chided her gently. “I know you two are in love, but couldn’t you have at least closed the door?” She shook her head. “Didn’t you know she was here?” 

Santana shook her head. “The house was pretty dark when we arrived.” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, I guess. We’ll just have to deal with the mess.” 

“Oh, by the way,” Brittany suddenly exclaimed. “My mom says hi!” 

Maria laughed at the complete non sequitur. Besides, Brittany’s exuberance had always been able to brighten everyone’s mood. “So, do you girls want to stay for a bit or head back?” 

Brittany and Santana looked at each other, communicating silently. Maria almost thought she could see the exchange of thoughts between their eyes. _I wonder if they know how rare what they have is?_

Finally, Santana looked at her mother and said, “I think we’ll head back, mom.” 

“Okay, mija,” Maria said, not surprised. If her mother-in-law had really caught them in an emotional moment and had made them feel bad about it, she figured they’d want some time to be together. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” 

Santana nodded and moved in for a hug. Then she turned back to the bed and finished packing her guitar in its case while her mother hugged Brittany. 

The three of them walked downstairs together and Maria led them to the door. “I love you, mija,” she said with a final hug. She pulled Brittany close as well and whispered, “Take care of her for me.” 

Brittany just nodded and led Santana outside by their linked hands. 

The drive back was quiet, but comfortably so. Their linked hands rested on Santana’s thigh as they rode through the dark streets. When they stopped outside Brittany’s house, Santana turned to face her girlfriend, a small grin playing around her lips. “I wish we’d just gone back to your bedroom earlier.” 

Brittany was surprised, but decided to just go with it. “Hmm, that would have been awesome.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to Santana’s ear. “We can still continue where we left off, though,” she whispered. 

Santana visibly swallowed. Her body was still thrumming with arousal and energy after all the teasing between them today, but her mind lingered on the altercation with her grandmother. Then she thought back to what her abuela had interrupted, and the extraordinarily beautiful kiss they had shared earlier by the car, right here, and she simply turned her head towards Brittany and pressed their lips together in a firm but tender kiss. Maybe this was the best way to make all the negative feelings go away because as soon as their tongues met in a gentle tangle, all thoughts of her grandmother vanished from Santana’s mind and only Brittany remained. 

“I need you,” Santana moaned against Brittany’s lips, before taking their kiss deeper, intensifying it tenfold. 

Brittany moaned loudly, intensely turned on by the feeling of being wanted and needed this much. “Let me take care of you, honey,” she husked, and for a second wondered if that was what Santana’s mother had had in mind. _Probably not._

They pulled away from each other slowly and got out of the car. Santana grabbed her guitar from the backseat, took Brittany’s hand and then they practically ran inside the house and up the stairs, completely ignoring Brittany’s mother and her greeting. 

Annie Pierce just shook her head with a smile, deciding that she’d have to remember to take a glass of water up to bed with her tonight. _Maybe earplugs, too._

Santana barely managed to drop her guitar safely before Brittany slammed the door shut and pulled her into her arms. They stood, just staring into each other’s eyes, grinning. Then the grins slipped from their faces and suddenly they were tearing at each other's clothes, kissing passionately. Hot, hard, wet kisses that left them breathless and excited. Santana felt shivers running through her body, and when she felt Brittany’s hand against the small of her back she realized that she had been, somehow, divested of her shirt. Santana had only a second to admire Brittany’s dexterity before Brittany decided to move her kisses to Santana’s throat. 

_Dios mio,_ Santana thought as Brittany’s lips teased the spot below her ear that drove her wild. She turned her head and went after Brittany’s lips again, licking the pink lips, then nipping at them and teasing them until Brittany wrapped her hands in Santana’s hair and pulled her into firmer contact. Santana’s hands slid around Brittany’s back trying to get a good grip on her t-shirt to pull it off, but Brittany’s kisses were too distracting. 

“Off! Now!” she growled against Brittany’s lips. “Take this off!” Her voice was breathless. “Britt, I n-need to … feel you!” Santana stepped out of their embrace and pulled off her own clothes, watching as Brittany did the same. 

Brittany loved what she saw before her. Santana’s body was so beautiful, so flawless. She dropped the rest of her own clothes and reached out to the body that she knew was dying to be touched. 

Santana’s dark eyes wandered over Brittany’s body, admiring perfect breasts, a tight abdomen, endless legs. Then she couldn’t focus any more as Brittany’s hands found her breasts and she lost herself in the sensations. All she managed to do was reach out to Brittany at the same time. 

Together, they touched and caressed, nibbled and kissed until neither of them thought they could stand up for much longer. Santana was barely being held up by Brittany’s hand in the small of her back, and even that hold turned precarious when Brittany pushed a thigh between Santana’s legs. 

Santana moaned loudly and felt her knees actually buckle. She dug her fingers into Brittany’s shoulders to steady herself and broke their kiss. “Bed … now,” was all she got out before Brittany covered her lips again. 

They stumbled onto the bed in a tangled mess. Santana’s breath escaped her lungs in a gasp when Brittany’s body landed on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around the toned body and pulled her closer. 

Brittany let out a groan. Their breasts were perfectly aligned, hard nipples rubbing against each other, and Brittany could feel every ripple and twitch in Santana’s body. 

Santana removed her legs from Brittany’s body and turned them over so she was on top. Brittany looked up into Santana’s eyes, seeing the love in them as well as raw need and desire. There was tenderness as well, which could also be felt in the soft, fluttering kisses Santana now rained upon Brittany’s face and neck, as she slowly worked her way downward. 

Santana sucked on the pulse point on Brittany’s neck, enjoying the fluttering beneath her tongue and lips that told her just how much she was exciting the other girl. She detoured and bit down on the nearest earlobe, making Brittany moan. Santana gently licked the tiny mark her teeth had left before returning once more to Brittany’s lips. She delved into the hot mouth with her tongue, deep and fast, for a moment before retreating just as quickly. 

The second her lips closed around a nipple, Brittany’s head slammed into the bed and a drawn-out hiss escaped her lips. Santana immediately went for the other nipple, eliciting the same hiss. Then her hands took over from her mouth, twisting and pulling the nipples until they were hard, and a deep, raspberry red. 

Santana’s mouth wandered down the flat abdomen, her tongue tracing every dip and curve of the muscles lovingly. 

“Santana … yes,” Brittany groaned, her hand wrapping itself firmly in Santana’s hair to push her further down to where she needed her most. “Don’t … stop,” she pleaded between gasps, “so … good.” 

Santana went along willingly. She could smell Brittany’s arousal and gasped at the sharp twitch in her lower belly in response. Her own arousal was slowly threatening to overwhelm her and it took all her control not to just ravage Brittany hard and fast. She wanted to take her time, relishing the feeling of being this aroused, this close to the girl she was so desperately in love with. She pressed her lower body into the bed, trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs but that somehow only made it worse. 

When Santana’s lips finally covered her clitoris, Brittany cried out, her orgasm already beckoning on the horizon. She felt Santana withdraw and tried to push her head back to where she really needed it. 

“Please, San … fuck me … now!” she commanded in a rough voice, sounding as close to desperate as Santana had ever heard her. 

Santana smiled and ran her tongue in a long sweep from Brittany’s opening to her clitoris and back. “God, you’re so wet,” she murmured, making Brittany twitch with the vibrations of her mouth. “So, _so_ wet,” she repeated for good measure, feeling her own wetness spreading against her inner thigh. She ran her tongue along the deeply pink labia and then pushed it as deeply inside Brittany as she could. She could feel the muscles inside flutter against her tongue, and she was aware of the answering flutters inside her own body. She decided it was time to take things up a notch. 

Brittany cried out loudly when Santana entered her with her index finger, then groaned in protest when the finger was removed quickly again. Santana entered her again, using two fingers this time, and Brittany felt her eyeballs roll back into her head. Then all she knew were the colors of the rainbow and fire running through her body in waves and _was that a unicorn waving at her?_ She tried to hold onto something and one hand grabbed onto the headboard while the other tightened in Santana’s hair, instinctively pulling her upwards. 

Santana gladly followed that call, needing to be close to Brittany just as much. Her fingers never ceased their pumping motion inside Brittany as she moved up her body until they were face to face again. Her kiss was hard and deep, her tongue mimicking the movement of her fingers, and her reward was a guttural cry, an arched back, and the rhythmic clenching of muscles around her fingers. 

Santana slowed her hand, guiding Brittany through her orgasm with soft circles with her thumb on the now sensitive clit. She pressed her own center against the top of Brittany’s thigh, moving in short staccato bursts against the firm muscle. Once, twice, and then she was there, joining Brittany in a world of exploding colors. Santana cried out, loudly, as she felt Brittany’s hands on her lower back pushing her down harder, making her orgasm longer and stronger than she had anticipated. 

Brittany was drawn to the look of utter abandon on Santana’s face and she raised her leg and used her hands to pull the smaller girl tighter against her leg. Santana’s head reared back and she let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh, deep and long. Brittany loved it, and she wanted to hear it again, so she pressed herself up against Santana, wrapping herself around the smaller body as much as she could. Her right hand moved between their bodies and she pushed two fingers deeply into Santana, trying to bring her up again before she had come completely down from her first orgasm. 

“Oh, yes,” Santana groaned. “ _Dios_ , yes … fuck … more, Britt.” She rocked faster. “More … harder … yes … yes …” 

Brittany removed her fingers slowly and pushed back hard with three fingers, repeating the motion again and again. Slowly out, fast in, watching Santana the whole time. “Come on, babe,” she panted into Santana’s ear, biting her earlobe. “Come for me.” 

Santana’s body was shaking and when Brittany pushed inside her, harder than before, her brain shut down and she came again, hard, letting out a cry of sheer animal pleasure, before collapsing bonelessly against Brittany. 

Brittany pressed a tender kiss against Santana’s hair and gently withdrew her fingers from their warm, wet haven. She could still feel the muscles fluttering against them, and she positioned her hand so that it cupped Santana’s mound. 

After a few minutes Santana lifted her head enough to look at Brittany. “Damn, Britt … that was … wow.” Her voice was warm and husky, and sent shivers down Brittany’s spine. All she could do was smile and nod. 

“I love you,” Santana said as she curled her body as tightly around Brittany’s as she could. “You’re the best thing in my life,” she added, her voice already slurred from being almost asleep. 

Brittany reached down to pull up the comforter, covering them in fluffy warmth. “I love you, too, San,” she whispered back before surrendering to the demands of her body and falling asleep as well. 


	6. Chapter 6

The house was quiet when Annie Pierce made her way to the kitchen for her morning coffee. She ground the beans, knowing full well that the noise could wake the dead. _What better way to wake up than the sound of coffee being made, right?_ She prepared her French press as the first sounds could be heard from the kids’ bedrooms. She knew she’d have to drag Katlyn out of bed by the ankles, but Brittany and Santana were amazingly disciplined for teenage girls. Years of Sue Sylvester’s early practices would do that to anyone, she mused.

As she poured hot water over the ground beans, releasing the aroma she craved, her thoughts wandered to a conversation she had with her husband a few years before.

_“Annie, don’t you think we should have some rules for Brittany? I mean she’s 14 now and ... I don’t know, shouldn’t we say something about how we expect her to behave?”_

_“Rules?”_

_“Yeah, for boys and such.”_

_“Tom, when have you ever seen Brittany bring home a boy?”_

_“Okay, so she doesn’t bring boys home … yet. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t set some rules for her, does it?”_

_“Honey, the only person ever staying over is Santana ... all the time, in fact,” Annie said gently, wondering if her husband had finally realized that there might be something blossoming between the girls that went beyond friendship._

_“I know, Annie,” Tom said, shaking is head. “I sometimes wonder about that …”_

Well, who would have thought … _Annie was surprised. “I didn’t think you’d notice, honey,” she remarked with a proud grin. “Well done.”_

_“What? You mean there’s really something going on between them?” He almost jumped up from his chair but settled back down when his wife just laughed and put a soothing hand on his arm. “What’s so funny?”_

_“Tom, do you remember when I told you years and years ago that Britt wanted to marry Santana?”_

_Her husband nodded. “But she was five at the time,” he almost whined._

_“I think she was more serious than we assumed.”_

_“Okay, so we really need some rules for them!”_

_“Like what, Tom?”_

_“Hmm, open door policy?”_

_Annie laughed heartily. “God, that one is so silly.”_

_Tom sighed. “Annie, I know you were brought up much more liberal than all of us, but we can’t just let them do … whatever it is they do in Britt’s room. They’re too young!”_

_“Honey, you think that may be just my so-called hippie Dutch background talking, but it’s not,” Annie soothed. “I dimly remember that your parents had that open door policy, too,” she continued. “And when did that ever stop us?”_

_Tom blushed a little at the memories of sneaking around with his then girlfriend and the fun times they’d had._

_“I’d much rather they are safe here, at home, than having to sneak around behind our backs and running off God knows where, Tom.” She sighed. “And besides, we don’t even know for sure that there is something going on … a little experimenting is normal at their age. For all we know they could be talking about boys the whole time they’re together.” Which she didn’t believe, not for a second._

_“Maybe we should ask Brittany?”_

_Annie shook her head. “No, if there’s something to tell us, I want her to come to us when she feels the time is right. For now I’d just like to trust her. And Santana.”_

_Tom raised one eyebrow at that, then sighed deeply. “Okay, you win,” he grumbled. “At least Santana can’t get her pregnant,” he added with a cheeky grin, “if there’s something going on, I mean. God, what am I saying? They’re too young!”_

_“Calm down, honey.” Annie laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything serious going on.” Yet. “And remember, we got pregnant on purpose, my love.” She ruffled his thinning blond hair lovingly. “Your parents were so shocked! Their precious quarterback son getting the sweet, naive exchange student pregnant at 17,” she added dryly._

_“And so were yours, darling,” Tom reminded her. “Your dad almost flew over here to kill me!” He smiled widely. “But it was a damn good reason to get married so you could stay here.” He got up and walked over to his wife’s chair to pull her up into a hug. “I've never regretted it, you know?”_

_“Even though you never got to go to college?”_

_“Nah, I was always going to take over dad’s business anyway.”_

_“I don’t regret it either,” Annie agreed. “Coming here as a foreign exchange student was the best idea I ever had. Even if Lima is a conservative town in the middle of nowhere and this country’s laws regarding weed are ridiculous.”_

_She winked at her husband after what was pretty much a daily complaint for her. "You know, maybe we should get an exchange student every year, just for old time's sake."_

She was brought back to the present by two sets of feet coming down the stairs. She looked up and could swear Brittany and Santana were slightly glowing. _Must be from the shower._

“Morning, kleintje,” she called out. “Morning, Santana.”

“You haven’t called me that in years, mom,” Brittany said as she skipped over to her mother to hug her. “Good morning to you, too.”

Annie grinned. If there was ever any doubt that her daughter was a happy girl, it would be gone now. “I was just lost in memories of when you were younger, honey.” She kissed Brittany’s forehead. “Coffee, Santana?” she asked over her daughter’s shoulder.

“Yes, please,” Santana replied eagerly. Mrs. Pierce’s coffee, after all, was legendary. 

\---------------------

Santana and Brittany had lunch with Quinn and Rachel again, a fact that raised some eyebrows across the cafeteria. Jeff, a bulky hockey player, called some insults over to their table about “dykes sitting with losers like they should”, but Quinn and Santana stopped him with a few pointed glares. 

The other jocks were quiet after that, just talking among themselves. That behavior was probably helped along by the fact that for some inexplicable reason Jeff stumbled as he tried to return his lunch tray. The fall was spectacular and took the focus off the girls. Puck pulled back the foot Jeff had stumbled over and whistled innocently.

“Nice one, Noah,” Rachel greeted him as he made his way to their table. 

Puck tried to look innocent. “Who me? I didn’t do a thing! It’s not my fault hockey players can’t walk.” 

Quinn, Rachel and Brittany chuckled, while Santana stayed quiet, lost in thought. _Should I have done what Puck did? I should be the one to defend our honor, shouldn’t I?_

Brittany saw the stormy look in Santana’s eyes and leaned close to her girlfriend. “Hey,” she whispered. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Santana mumbled a little stiffly.

Brittany wasn’t deterred by that. “I’m glad you stayed cool, honey,” she said conversationally.

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” Brittany nodded. “I mean, I know you could have totally taken him apart with your vicious, vicious words, but that would have ended our lunch, so yeah, I’m glad.”

Santana thought about that. She had a feeling that Brittany was just trying to placate her, and for some reason she was a little reluctant to be played so successfully. Then she made the mistake of looking into Brittany’s eyes, seeing nothing but adoration there, and any fight she might have had in her was gone in an instant. Brittany grinned and squeezed Santana’s thigh under the table. 

“You’re good, Britt,” Santana sighed with a small grin, “frighteningly good.”

Brittany wasn’t quite sure what Santana meant, but she also wasn’t about to deny that. Instead she leaned even closer, resting her forehead against Santana’s head. “Only with you,” she whispered, her breath caressing the perfectly shaped earlobe under her lips. 

Santana felt goosebumps erupt on the arm closest to Brittany. _I wonder if it’s always going to be like that … if my body will always react to Brittany that way._ When Brittany’s lips touched her ear and her body shivered in response, all she could think was, _God, I hope so_.

Puck’s voice pulled her out of her happy place. “Yo, Lopez, did you listen? Party at 8 tonight at Rachel’s place. It’s Friday and her dads are gone. I’ll bring the _refreshments_.” With that he walked off.

Santana looked at Rachel who looked a little stunned. “Did you just let him talk you into that, Berry?”

Rachel nodded silently. Quinn unsuccessfully tried to hold back a laugh. “It was classic Puck, she didn’t stand a chance,” she said with a small giggle. “It’s just the glee kids, though, and you two and Mercedes. Are you going to be there?”

Santana looked at Brittany, communicating silently with her. “Yeah, we’ll be there,” she said out loud after a few seconds. “One condition, though,” she added.

“What?”

“No Finn.”

Quinn cleared her throat. “Maybe we should have mentioned that to Puck.”

Rachel shook her head. “Noah knows that Finn’s persona non grata at the Berry home at the moment. Besides, he’s grounded.” The expression on her face was unreadable.

Quinn put a hand on Rachel’s forearm while Santana watched with some interest. “Are you okay, Rachel?” Quinn asked quietly, her eyes concerned.

“I’m quite alright, Quinn, thank you,” Rachel’s voice was determined. “He brought it on himself, after all.” The corners of her mouth turned upward. “And he definitely deserves some punishment, one of which is the end of our relationship. I just can’t be with someone who so blatantly disregards what my family believes in.” 

She smiled at Santana, although the smile was unsure and looked a little timid to Santana. Brittany nudged Santana to get her to say something, but Santana had no idea what. “Er, I’m glad you didn’t just ignore it, Ber-Rachel,” she finally managed. “I’m glad a lot of people realized what he did. I didn’t really expect it, to be honest, and I was just sort of surprised you were one of them, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, her voice squeaking a little.

“Well, you did seem to idolize him a bit,” Quinn threw in.

“Yeah, exactly.” Santana was glad Quinn was getting her point.

Rachel huffed. “Okay, maybe in the past I had a proclivity for believing in his leadership skills and his decency as a human being, but I’ve recently come to realize that he does have a few … shortcomings as a boyfriend.”

“Like what?” Quinn couldn’t help asking. “His constant disregard of everything you want and need?”

Santana chuckled. “Don’t tell me … you actually _did_ have sex with him.” Rachel gasped and Quinn looked slightly nauseated at the thought.

“San, don’t be mean,” Brittany murmured close to her.

“I really wasn’t trying to be, Britt,” Santana said quietly, but loud enough for Quinn and Rachel to hear. “It’s just … I’ve …”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve been there, we all know,” Quinn said jokingly, before seeing the look Brittany and Santana shared. “Sore subject?” she mouthed to Santana. 

Santana nodded. “Let’s drop it, okay? I’m sorry, Rachel.” 

Quinn nodded and asked Rachel if she could bring something to the party that night.

\--------------------------

It was 8.30 by the time Santana and Brittany made it to Rachel’s house that night. They hadn’t planned on being fashionably late, but getting dressed for the party had involved a lot of _undressing_ , and they weren’t really all that sorry. 

They walked downstairs hand in hand and Santana had to suppress a scowl at Kurt’s drawn-out “aww” when he spotted them. It still took some effort for Santana to be so demonstrative, even around their friends, but she took a breath and gripped Brittany’s hand a little tighter.

Kurt’s voice made everyone look to the stairs, putting the girls in the proverbial spotlight.

“You know, that’s a real tragedy coming down those stairs,” Puck said, shaking his head. “The two hottest ladies at McKinley, and they’re gay. Such a waste.”

“You’re just jealous,” Brittany replied with a wide grin. 

“Totally,” he admitted, “but you could make me feel better by letting me watch you guys.”

Every girl in the room glared at him, as did Kurt and Blaine. Santana, however, just laughed. “In your dreams, pool boy.” She put on her sexiest smirk. “It would be totally irresponsible of us anyway,” she continued in a low, seductive voice that did wonderful things to Brittany. “You would spontaneously combust from our hotness and I don’t want to clean Puck pieces off our walls.”

Puck grinned and bowed, conceding the point. He walked over and hugged both girls. “No harm in trying, right?” he whispered. “You know I’ll always have your back, ‘kay. Just call me your friendly neighborhood lesbro.” He let go of them. “Drinks?”

“Sure,” Santana and Brittany replied. They let go of each other and walked over to where everyone was sitting in a wide circle around a low table. Everyone shuffled around a bit, making room for them. Santana sat down next to Quinn with Brittany settling down so close to her she was almost in her lap.

Puck brought them some alcoholic concoction in tall, slim glasses and Santana carefully sniffed the glass. She had sort of promised Brittany’s mother to take care of Brittany, so she was wary of drinking anything too strong. She took a small sip, deciding then and there to hold onto the glass for the rest of the night and to top it off with water or juice only. Right now, it was more vodka than anything.

Brittany watched Santana carefully. She knew something was up when Santana only took a small sip and then sat the glass down on the floor next to her. She sniffed at her own drink, but could find nothing wrong with it, so that couldn’t be it. She took a sip and recognized the tangy taste of a strong vodka and cranberry, one of her favorite drinks. She took a slightly bigger sip before setting the glass down.

“Something wrong with your drink, San?” she whispered close to Santana’s ear.

Santana shook her head. “No, it’s fine,” she answered quietly. “I just don’t want to get drunk tonight,” she added after a small pause. 

Quinn heard the last part and cocked a curious eyebrow. That was an unusual statement for Santana who always got seriously smashed at parties. But before she could ask Santana if anything was wrong, Rachel stood up from her spot and motioned for all of them to be quiet.

“Now that we’re finally all here, I’d like to welcome you all, again, to my house for an evening of fun and friendship. So … let’s party!” 

Everyone raised their glasses and Mercedes murmured, “Let’s hope it doesn’t end up being another train wreck,” while raising her can of diet coke.

“God, yes,” Kurt said and everyone nodded.

“So, what do we do now?” Rachel asked.

“Well, we’re not nearly drunk enough for party games, yet,” Tina said after a moment. “So why don’t we, you know, just catch up for a bit?”

\-----------------------------

Catching up had turned into a major, two-hour gossip fest with Kurt, Mercedes and Tina leading the conversation with everyone else throwing in the odd appropriate or, in Puck’s and sometimes Santana’s case, inappropriate comment. Santana and Brittany were still nursing their first drinks, which Santana kept topping up with pure cranberry juice with several surreptitious trips to the bar.

Santana was surprised at how much fun she was having while being sober. It was a good feeling to be surrounded by friends who knew them well enough for her to be comfortable with Brittany cuddled up to her without alcohol as an excuse. It felt wonderful to know that if she wanted to she could turn her head and just kiss her girlfriend and nobody would mind. Unsurprisingly, that urge had come several times over the past couple of hours, but they always managed to not let their kisses get out of control, although they were getting longer and more intimate every time they happened, and the time between them was getting shorter. 

Santana’s body was on a slow burn and she realized she’d have to curb their kisses, if she wanted to make it through the evening without dragging Brittany to a spare bedroom or even a bathroom and ravage her. She looked at Brittany and saw a heated glance directed back at her. _Yup, need to cool off._

She tore her eyes from Brittany when she felt movement next to her. Quinn was standing up, muttering something about “getting some fresh air”, before walking up the stairs a little unsteadily.

Santana saw her chance for a little cooldown and leaned closer to Britt. “I’m going to go talk to Quinn for a bit, okay?”

Brittany nodded. She’d had a feeling there were some things Santana and Quinn had to talk about. It was overdue, actually. “Don’t forget your jacket,” she muttered sweetly. “Don’t want you getting sick.”

Santana rolled her eyes, but Brittany could see it was a happy eye roll. She stuck out her tongue. 

“Watch where you’re pointing that, Britt,” Santana growled into her girlfriend’s ear. Then she quickly stood and walked away. 

She did grab her leather jacket, grinning as she did so. She knew she was whipped and that she should be appalled at that – HBICs weren’t whipped, ever, after all – but she couldn’t find it in her heart to really give a fuck. If it made Brittany happy to take care of her, she sure as hell would put on her jacket. Or do whatever else Brittany wanted.

She found Quinn sitting on the white wooden porch swing, which was swaying slightly back and forth, a half-finished cigarette in her right hand. Santana waited silently for Quinn to make some room for her on the two-seater, then sat down next to her. They stared silently into the night, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Santana looked at Quinn, wondering when their friendship had changed so drastically. Was it when Puck had gotten Quinn pregnant while technically dating her? Maybe, although Santana had never really cared for Puck as anything but an enhancement to her reputation. Was it when Quinn had spilled the beans about her summer surgery? Possibly. Or was it just what happened when two alpha females got too competitive for their own good? 

“What happened to us, Q?” she finally decided to ask.

Quinn turned to face her, hoisting one foot onto the swing. “Frankly, I don’t know.” 

Santana mirrored her position. “I mean we were inseparable, you, Britt and I … the Unholy Trinity,” she said slowly. “Then suddenly we were at each other’s throats more often than not and I can’t even remember how or why.”

“We changed, S,” Quinn said quietly. “Well, you and I did anyway … Brittany never changed all that much.”

There was a fond smile on Santana’s face at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. Quinn noticed and grinned. “You used to be different in the beginning, S,” she remarked casually. “I mean you were always a bitch, don’t get me wrong.” They both chuckled at that. “But that bitchiness used to be tempered with a big heart back then.” 

Quinn held up a hand when she saw Santana open her mouth. “Things changed when you fell in love with Brittany, S. I could see it, no matter how much you denied it to yourself … when the three of us were together, you couldn’t take her eyes off her. You always did whatever Britt wanted and you did it with a smile, but you closed yourself off to everybody else. I should have said something or helped you because I could see that you were fighting yourself … you were _so_ scared … I should have told you that it didn’t matter to me, that you were my friend and it was okay.” Her voice trailed off.

Santana had to swallow around an annoying lump in her throat. She knew that Quinn was right, she had been _terrified_ when the feelings for Brittany had become more complicated than they should have been for a best friend. She had never figured out when exactly she had fallen for the blonde but it didn’t really matter anyway. She had denied her feelings for so long that it had almost eaten her soul pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

“Why didn’t you?” she finally asked. “Say something, I mean.”

“I was jealous,” Quinn replied bluntly. Santana’s eyes widened. “No, not because I had feelings for you or Britt, don’t worry.” She chuckled at the look of relief on Santana’s face. “I was jealous of the closeness you shared … we used to be the Unholy _Trinity_ , attached at the hip, and suddenly I felt like an outsider. You started staying over at Britt’s house all the time and I wasn’t automatically invited any more. It hurt, Santana.”

“I’m sorry, Q,” Santana breathed, pulling Quinn into a one-armed hug. It was uncomfortable given their relative position on the swing, but Santana felt it was very much needed nonetheless. 

“See, that’s the Santana you were before,” Quinn said between sniffles. “And that you are again now that you’re not hiding yourself any more. I missed that Santana … I really could have used her around when I got pregnant.”

Santana sighed. “I’m really sorry about being such a lousy friend, Q.” She let go of Quinn and leaned back again. “Maybe it’ll help you to know that I was miserable basically the whole time.”

Quinn snorted. “I think we were both miserable, Santana, and so was Brittany for a long stretch of time because you couldn’t get your head out of your ass.”

“I know,” Santana said dejectedly. “I still can’t believe we’re still here and finally together. She should have kicked my ass …”

“She loves you,” Quinn interrupted gently. “She always has … Santana, she wasn’t any more subtle than you were. You were just too blind to see it, or you didn’t want to see it.”

“I hurt her so much, Q, and yet she still loves me.” The wonder in Santana’s tone was childlike and adorable.

“She’s very forgiving.” 

Santana nodded. “She needs to be with me around. I love her but I can be an insecure, jealous bitch.”

“You’re extremely honest tonight,” Quinn mused aloud. “How much have you had to drink?”

Santana laughed. “Practically nothing. I just felt we deserved to be honest with each other, you and I.” She looked into hazel eyes. “We should be if we want to salvage this friendship, and I’d like to.”

“I’d like that, too,” Quinn replied softly. “And please let me start by apologizing for leaving you alone with your doubts and for spilling your … surgical enhancement to Coach Sylvester. I was so desperate to get back to the top of the social ladder after my pregnancy that I was willing to shove aside anyone in my path.”

“I forgive you, if you forgive me for torturing you all through your pregnancy and being such a goddamn bitch all the time. You needed a friend and I should have been there. In hindsight, I should have offered to let you move in with me when your parents kicked you out.”

“I forgive you, too.”

They both looked at each other and grinned. “Enough of this emotional crap,” Santana said, still smiling. “Tell me what happened to you over the summer and why you turned up all … grungy and crazy at the start of this year.”

“I thought you were done with the emotional crap?”

“Eh, I think I can take some more as long as it’s not about me?” Santana grinned, but then her face turned serious. “Giving up Beth hit you harder than any of us realized, didn’t it?”

“How perceptive of you.” Quinn’s voice was pure HBIC, icy and caustic. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologized immediately.

“S’okay, I probably deserved that.”

“Not really. I think I managed to hide it reasonably well for a while before I broke.”

Realization hit Santana. “New York!”

“What?”

“New York,” Santana repeated. “That’s where you started to break.”

Quinn nodded. “Yeah, that’s when the cracks in my façade became too obvious to ignore.” She fished out another cigarette from a pack in her jacket and lighted it. 

“Is that when you started smoking?”

“Among other things,” Quinn mumbled and took another deep drag. “I don’t really smoke any more … I just feel the urge to calm myself down sometimes and a cigarette or two helps.”

Santana watched Quinn holding on to the cigarette as if it were a lifeline. She decided not to prompt Quinn any further and to let her speak when she was ready. _Look at you getting all friend-y and patient in your ripe old age, Lopez._

“After prom I felt incredibly empty,” Quinn finally started after a while. “Like there was nothing for me to live for. I had no goals, nothing. I started hanging out with the skanks, mostly in this one bar downtown, just off Main.”

Santana nodded. “Bad area.”

“Yes, which is why it was perfect for me. I really didn’t care, S …” She hesitated. “I started dating someone who was much older than me after a couple of weeks, a regular at the bar, a biker.”

“You dated a biker?” Santana’s interest was piqued.

“A woman,” Quinn admitted. “She was 20 years older than me and this really hardcore biker, but she was good to me and protected me from the major scum.”

“Damn, Q,” Santana breathed. “I had no idea you swung that way. Bad girls, I mean, not girls in general. I find that part surprisingly unsurprising.”

“I had no idea … both parts, believe me.” Quinn looked at Santana, expecting amusement but finding understanding in dark eyes. “It only lasted for a month before she moved on to someone else, and I was okay with that. It wasn’t like I was in love with her or anything … or if I was feeling anything at all.”

“I’m sorry, Quinn.” There wasn’t much else that Santana thought of to say. “That sucks.”

“It did,” Quinn agreed. 

Santana listened attentively as Quinn told her everything that had happened to her over the course of the past few months. How she tried to get Beth back and how she had tried to discredit Shelby in the process. How she had gone crazier and crazier and how she had finally realized that she needed help.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist for a couple of weeks now,” she finished. “And it has helped me to get some things a little clearer in my mind.” She looked into concerned brown eyes. “I’m not completely okay yet, but I’m getting there.”

“Have you stopped going after Shelby now?” Santana asked, a little mad at Quinn for going after someone she admired. “I really like her, Q, and she’s actually quite nice and a great teacher.”

Quinn bristled. “Yes, I’ve stopped! Wasn’t going to work anyway because Puck told her everything.”

Santana held up both hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t bite my head off. For once I didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

Quinn let out a breath to center herself, just like her therapist had told her. “I know,” she said as calmly as she could. “It’s just frustrating that everyone always takes her side.”

“I didn’t take anyone’s side, Q,” Santana replied just as calmly. “I just said I like her. I’ve learned so much from her.” She saw a look flash over Quinn’s face and realized there was still something Quinn hadn’t told her. “Okay, spill it.”

“What?”

“There’s something you’re not saying.”

Quinn deliberated for a minute. “Puck is sleeping with her.”

“With Shelby?” Santana’s voice rose.

Quinn nodded. “I don’t know if he’s in love with her or if he just wants to be close to Beth, but yeah. I think she might have broken it off, though … Puck’s been different the last couple of days.”

“Oh my God,” Santana moaned. “If that comes out The Troubletones are history. Damn.” Her brown eyes pierced Quinn’s hazel ones. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

Quinn shook her head. “Don’t worry. I wanted to, _really_ wanted to as soon as I found out because that would have gotten Shelby fired and maybe she would have even lost Beth.” She shook her head again. “But she’s actually a good mother from all I’ve seen and heard, and she loves Beth.” 

Quinn was crying now and Santana pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that alone, Quinn,” she murmured softly. “But I think you’re doing the right thing. As much as the thought makes me shudder, it’s between Puck and her, and she really does love Beth.” She smiled. “She showed Brittany all the photos on her phone the other day.”

Quinn sniffled again, drawing in shaky breaths, and Santana rubbed her back soothingly. She looked up when she heard the door open and saw Brittany looking over at them. She smiled at her girlfriend and saw the nod that signaled “just wanted to see if you’re okay, I’ll see you in a bit”. She blew Brittany a kiss and nodded before Brittany retreated back inside.

“Was that Brittany?” Quinn’s voice was muffled against Santana’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“She mad?”

“No, just wanted to check on us to see if everything’s okay.”

Quinn sighed. “I want something like that,” she said quietly. “Remember what I said in New York? That I just want someone to love me? I still want that.”

“I think you’ve always wanted that, Q.” Santana kept rubbing Quinn’s back. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

“I guess. Maybe I don’t deserve it because I’ve been such a bitch to everyone.”

Santana pushed Quinn away by her shoulders. “Excuse me? Will you please look who you’re talking to? If you don’t deserve love _I_ should probably be miserable and alone for the rest of my life.”

Quinn shook her head. “That’s different. You were a bitch _because_ of love.”

“I was still a bigger bitch than you ever were, Fabray.” Santana pulled Quinn back against her body. “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong place.” It came out more as a statement than a question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that maybe you should look at the female population of McKinley instead of the boys,” Santana replied. “You did mention that you didn’t need boys any more, if I remember correctly.”

Quinn was quiet for a long moment. “Hm, maybe.” She groaned. “I bet none of them would want me.”

“Is there someone _you_ might want?” Santana almost cringed at what she was about to say, but she bit the bullet. “What about Ber-Rachel? You two have been awfully friendly recently.”

To Santana’s surprise Quinn blushed, even visible in the dim light from the streetlamp. “Holy shit, Q! You’re into Berry, aren’t you?”

“Could you stop calling her that, Santana? She’s really not that bad and she has a nice name.” Quinn sat up and looked out to the street. “And to answer your question: I honestly don’t know.” She looked genuinely baffled. “I actually like spending time with her and I don’t even mind her ramblings and stuff … but how do I know …?”

“If you love her?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll know, Q, believe me … one day it’ll hit you.” Santana smiled. “For now I’d suggest you spend more time with her, so you actually have a chance at figuring it out.”

“Damn, when did you grow up, S?”

Santana laughed. “Britt helped a lot with that.” 

“She must have magic powers.”

“You have _no_ idea.” A sexy grin appeared on Santana’s face.

“And I think I really don’t want to know,” Quinn said with a grin.

“You know Britt and I aren’t Rachel’s biggest fans, but if you wanted we could probably go to dinner at Breadstix or something like that … you know, a double date?” Santana inwardly cringed at the idea, but she would do it for Quinn.

“Who are you and where have you taken Santana?” Quinn asked with a suspicious look.

“I know, I know.” Santana conceded the point. “But if I want our friendship back and you want to date Rachel – _if_ you decided you want that – I better get used to having her around.”

“Remind me to send Brittany a gift basket or something.” Quinn’s face was utterly serious. “She made you wonderfully human again.”

Santana shrugged. “Like you said, she probably has magic powers.” Her voice turned serious. “I still have a lot of crap I need to deal with, but having Brittany by my side at least gives me hope that I’ll be able to deal with them, you know? I mean if someone like Brittany loves me, I can’t be all bad, can I?”

This time Quinn hugged Santana. “Listen to me, Santana. You and Brittany were made for each other. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re soulmates. You two give me hope that I can maybe one day find love as well.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I hope you’re right, for both our sakes. I hope you find love soon, Q.”

Santana could feel Quinn’s nod against her head. “To quote you, enough of this emotional crap,” Quinn finally whispered. “Wanna go back inside?”

Santana sat up. “Yes, let’s.” She stood and hesitated for a second. “Are we good, Q?”

Quinn got to her feet as well and grinned at Santana. “Good? Santana, we’re the best.” She turned towards the door. “Race you inside?”

And with that she took off, Santana following behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: These characters belong to other people who don't treat them particularly well.

When Quinn and Santana made it back downstairs, everyone seemed pretty drunk and involved in a raucous game of spin the bottle, if the uncomfortable peck Puck and Kurt shared was any indication. Everyone except for Brittany, Santana realized. She looked around and spotted her girlfriend standing to the side by the bar, just watching their friends drunkenly cheering on the two boys. She nodded once to Quinn, who sat down between Blaine and Mercedes to join the game, and walked over to her girlfriend.

Brittany’s eyes lit up when she spotted Santana. “I thought you were never coming back inside,” she whispered after a short kiss. “Everything okay with you and Quinn?”

Santana just grinned at her. “Yeah, we’re good. We had a lot to talk about and clear the air a bit between us. I think we’re friends again now, though.”

Brittany clapped her hands. “That’s _so_ great, I missed being friends with her. The Unholy Trinity should never be apart.”

“I missed her, too,” Santana admitted. “So, why aren’t you playing? I thought you loved kissing games.”

“Not interested,” Brittany replied with a shrug. “Why would I want to play when the only person I ever want to kiss is you? I really don’t want to kiss any of the others.”

Santana’s breath caught in her throat. Brittany could be so damn romantic in the most unexpected ways. She leaned over to kiss Brittany. “I love you,” she said as she pulled away. It was almost embarrassing how often she was saying those three words these days, but she just couldn’t help herself. They just kept tumbling out of her mouth again and again. She looked around the room and back at Brittany. “Do you think anyone would notice if we got out of here?”

Brittany smiled and shook her head.

“Let’s go then.” Santana took Brittany’s hand and pulled her towards the stairs. She looked back at her friends one last time and the last thing she saw was a blushing Rachel leaning over to kiss Quinn.

She smiled all the way up the stairs. _Make it count, Quinn. Make it count._

\-----------------

The Pierce residence was brightly lit when they got home. _No wonder,_ Santana thought. _I don’t think we ever made it home from a party mostly sober and before midnight._ She chuckled.

“What?” Brittany asked.

“Have we ever been home this early after a party?” 

Brittany thought for a moment. “I don’t think so … I mean even my parents are still up.”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing we’re not drunk.”

“San, isn’t that your mom’s car over there?” Brittany pointed to a black Mercedes a few yards down the street.

“Yeah, it is … do you think something happened? I mean I know it’s not that late, but …”

“Santana,” Brittany interrupted gently. “They probably just had dinner together, that’s all. Remember, they’re friends.”

“Yeah … sorry, it’s just weird actually _seeing_ that, you know?”

Brittany didn’t say anything as they got out of the car. It wasn’t as weird for her as it was for Santana because she had actually known their mothers were friends. At least they were talking on the phone all the time. Brittany took Santana’s hand and walked to the door.

“I’m so glad we’re pretty sober,” Santana repeated as Brittany opened the front door.

They walked in quietly but as soon as they closed the door behind them two heads looked at them over the top of the living room couch. “Hey, girls,” Annie greeted them. “You’re home early. Boring party?”

“Hey, mom,” Brittany said, walking over to her mom to hug her, dragging Santana along by their joined hands. “Nah, the party was fine, we just …”

“We just … felt like coming home,” Santana cut in, nodding at both women in greeting. “Hey.”

Maria Lopez was having none of that. She got up and wrapped her daughter in a hug. “Hello, mija.”

Santana closed her arms around her mother. “Hi, mom.” She smiled as she breathed in her mother’s distinctive perfume, a smell she had grown up with and always identified as being comfortable. 

“What’s up?” Brittany asked after all the necessary greetings and hugs had been dispensed. “Where’s dad?” 

“Dad’s in his office,” Annie replied. “Mari and I are just catching up.” 

“Right,” Santana drawled. Something was telling her that catching up wasn’t all that was going on here. “No, really … did something happen?”

Annie and Maria looked at each other for a moment, then settled back into the couch and told the girls to take a seat as well. Brittany gracefully plopped down into the closest armchair, pulling Santana on top of her. “Okay, we’re sitting,” she said, settling Santana’s body half next to her, half on top of her, twining their legs. 

Santana felt her mother’s eyes on her and blushed, feeling a little uncomfortable with the public display in front of her, but any attempt to put some distance between her and Brittany was thwarted by Brittany’s strong arms and legs. In the end, she gave up and shot her mother a grin and was surprised to see an indulgent smile in return.

“What’s up?” Brittany asked again.

“Well, right now we’re watching you trying to twist your bodies into a pretzel, honey,” Annie said. She and Maria laughed at the faces of their daughters.

Santana’s blush got impossibly darker and she huffed, but Brittany didn’t let go. Instead she grinned at her mother. "I just don’t want to let her go," she said brightly, tightening her arms around Santana.

“You do realize that Santana is dying of embarrassment right about now, don’t you?” Maria snorted through her laughter, not above making fun of her obviously mortified offspring. She picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip. Santana noticed the almost empty bottle on the coffee table.

Brittany’s smile faltered a little and her arms loosened their hold. She leaned close to Santana’s ear and whispered, “Are you really? Is this too much? Do you want to go sit in the other chair?”

Santana wanted to slap herself when she heard the insecurity in her girlfriend’s voice. _She deserves this after all the crap I put her through over the years. Besides, they must know we do more than just hold hands._ She turned her head and pressed her lips against Brittany’s cheek for a small peck. “It’s fine, Britt,” she whispered and linked her hand with Brittany’s, pulling the hands tighter against her stomach, completely missing the blinding smile on Brittany’s face. 

“Do you want us to ask you again or are you going to tell us what’s going on, mom?” Santana asked, putting a slight hint of exasperation into her voice.

Annie and Maria shared a look and nodded at each other, making Santana’s spidey senses tingle. 

“Mari and I were talking about your situation.” 

Brittany wasn’t surprised that her mother was the one to start talking. She usually was.

“Yes,” Maria confirmed. “A few things have happened today that we needed to talk about … and that we need to talk to you two about.”

“ _Dios mio_ , mom, what is it?” Santana was getting impatient and the build-up was making her very nervous.

“First off, Coach Sylvester called me today,” Maria continued, her voice business-like. “The injunction against that ad that’s outing you has been repealed. It aired for the first time tonight. I’m so sorry, mija.”

Santana swallowed. She had managed to put the ad from her mind when it hadn’t aired the past few days, but now everything was coming back. Her body tensed as if preparing to run and her throat constricted.

Brittany felt the tension in Santana’s body and moved her hand in slow, soothing circles on Santana’s stomach, trying to calm her down. She knew that Santana was close to just jumping up and running, even if there was nowhere to really run to. “It’s okay, Santana,” she said close to Santana’s ear and felt the body in her arms relax a little. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Brittany’s right,” Maria said, “it is going to be okay.” She walked over to the armchair and kneeled before her daughter, gently stroking her hair. “Everyone who matters already knows, mija, and we all love you.”

“Abuela doesn’t,” Santana replied flatly. “She thinks I’m an abomination, and so will half of Ohio, I bet.”

“What do you care about half of Ohio, though?” Annie asked. “The only people in Ohio who matter are here, and we all love you. Well, except for your—“

Maria shot her friend a glare that stopped her mid-sentence. “Mija,” she turned back to Santana. “If you want me to I can sue them, on behalf of you. You know we take on cases like that. There are so many things wrong with that ad that we’d stand a pretty good chance, I think. But …” She trailed off.

“But it would only give it more publicity and make things worse,” Santana finished her sentence for her. “Thanks, mamí, but I think we should just leave it be, no matter how much it sucks.” The last thing she needed was for the ad to make it on the national news, which would probably happen if the ACLU got involved.

“Well, the election is in a couple of days anyway, so the storm should blow over soon,” Annie said quietly. 

Brittany watched Santana closely, trying to get a grip on what was going on in her mind. She suddenly wished they’d stayed at the party, gotten trashed and were still playing silly party games. She pulled Santana even closer against her, wanting nothing more than to protect her from the world. It was a strange feeling, equally bad and good, and she wondered if that was what Santana was feeling a lot of the time when she was protecting her. The urge to go upstairs and lock the two of them in her bedroom, never to leave again, was strong and she actually tensed her thigh muscles in preparation of getting them both up and out of the chair.

Santana felt the changes in Brittany’s body language. She turned her head to look at Brittany and saw the worry on her face. She cupped Brittany cheek with one, pulling her head up so she could look into blue eyes. “You’re right, Britt,” she whispered, “it’s going to be okay … _I’m_ going to be okay.” She leaned in closer. “I have you, right?” She repeated the question until she felt Brittany’s nod against her own head.

Santana turned to her mother. “Is this going to affect you and dad somehow?”

Maria looked surprised. “No, mija, why would it? It’s not like they used your name in the ad, and even if they had, we’re proud to be your parents, no matter what.”

Santana disentangled herself from Brittany’s grip to hug her mom. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

Her mother hugged her hard for a few moments and Santana realized that they hadn’t hugged like that in years. She wondered when she had lost that part of her relationship with her mother and vowed to work on getting it back.

Maria leaned back after a few moments, but kept her hands on her daughter’s thighs. “Unfortunately, that’s not all that’s been going on, but that was the worst part.”

Santana groaned. “What else can there be?” She snuggled back into Brittany’s side, now totally unconcerned with her mother’s presence.

“After your short but eventful visit to pick up your guitar, your abuela has decided to become sick and stay in bed,” Maria explained.

“So is she like really sick or is it something else?” Brittany asked.

“Something else if you ask me,” Maria replied. “I don’t believe for a second she’s really sick.”

“Apart from in the head maybe,” Annie added under her breath but everyone heard it anyway.

“What does that mean?” Brittany asked.

“It means going home would be hell because even if she’s not really sick, dad won’t make her move out.” Santana shared a look with her mother. “Right?”

“I’m afraid so.” Maria was clearly uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry.”

“So?” Brittany shrugged. “That just means you’ll get to stay here with me, right?” She grinned at Santana. “Why would you want to leave anyway? I want you to stay.”

“That’s what we’ve been talking about tonight, kleintje,” Annie said gently. “Trying to figure out what this means for all of us.”

“You mean you don’t want her to stay?” Brittany’s voice was suddenly very upset.

“No, honey, that’s not what your mother is saying at all.” Maria put a soothing hand on Brittany’s forearm, still kneeling next to the armchair.

“What _are_ you saying then?” Santana finally decided to re-join the discussion. 

“Well, there are two options,” Annie replied. “You could of course stay here with us.”

“Or you could take the small apartment that I managed to find for your abuela today … before she decided to play the dying swan,” Maria continued. “I could sign a six-month lease. It’s only a few months until you graduate and then you’re going to move to God knows where anyway.”

_My own apartment …_ Santana’s thoughts were racing. Living alone, no parents, nobody to tell her what to do, just her and Brittany. _Wait …_ “Brittany could move into the apartment with me, right?” She looked at Annie, seeing the response on her face before she even finished the question.

“No, honey,” Annie confirmed Santana’s suspicions. “Brittany is going to stay right here. Her father would kill me.”

“No.” Brittany’s voice was adamant. “I’m going to be wherever Santana is.”

“You’re not moving out for no good reason, kleintje,” Annie said. 

“Being with Santana is a really good reason though,” Brittany countered. “The best reason.”

Santana smiled and nodded. “And you would have some more space here, you know,” she added. “I mean, Rory has taken over your spare bedroom …”

“Nice try, Santana,” Annie said with a smirk and Maria nodded. “But it’s still a no.”

“So my choice is to move out on my own or stay here with Brittany?” Santana asked.

Both mothers nodded. “Actually, I think we’d both prefer you to stay here,” Annie added. 

Santana squeezed Brittany’s hand and looked at Annie and Maria. “Could we talk for a minute … alone?”

“Sure,” both mothers said and walked off towards the kitchen.

Santana turned fully into Brittany, who still looked upset, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Hey, Britt,” she cooed. “Don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“But it’s unfair! It would be _so_ awesome to have an apartment together, just the two of us.”

“I know, baby.” Santana kissed Brittany’s forehead. “But did you really think our parents would go for that? I’m surprised my mom even mentioned it.”

“I think she’s trying to make up for your grandma and your dad, but she probably really wants you to stay here … or go home with her.” Brittany shook her head with a sigh and snuggled closer into Santana. “It sucks, though.”

Santana smiled against Brittany’s hair. “You know I love you, Britt,” she whispered. _And here were those three little words again._ “And we’re going to be living together soon enough.” She had her eyes closed and missed the wide-eyed look on Brittany’s face. “So for now I’d say we stay here … unless you want to start sneaking around behind your parents’ back?”

Brittany thought about that for a moment. “Sounds tempting, but I just want to be with you all the time, so here’s good, I guess.”

“Definitely.” Santana smiled. As tempting as living on her own and sneaking around did indeed sound, she mostly liked living with the Pierces, and she loved being able to sleep with Brittany every night. “I love waking up in your arms,” she said softly. “I never want to wake up any other way ever again.”

Brittany wondered if Santana knew what she was saying. She thought about the plans she had made as a five-year-old, plans that had wavered a little sometimes but had never really changed. She remembered asking her mother how old “old enough” was to get married. _Maybe we_ are _old enough. You don’t have to be like really old when you get married, right? Mom and dad got married when they were really young, too._ She looked at Santana who was watching her with a steady gaze and all she could think of to do was lean in and kiss those wonderful lips while her mind shouted _yes_.

Santana loved watching Brittany think. There was a lot going on behind those blue eyes, things that most people couldn’t or didn’t want to see. She imagined she could see the thoughts chasing each other across the expanse of blue until Brittany seemed to come to a conclusion. She was sure that Brittany didn’t even realize that she usually gave the slightest of nods when she was done thinking, which Santana found incredibly adorable. 

The nod came and then, suddenly, Brittany was kissing her, steadily, gently, but just hard enough to drive all thoughts from Santana’s mind and rendering her breathless. She pulled out of the kiss with a small moan. “Britt, wait,” she tried to stop Brittany from kissing her again. “Wait … _please_.”

“What?”

“We can’t … our mothers … _please,_ you can’t kiss me like that when they’re just … there.” The look in Brittany’s eyes made it difficult for Santana to think.

“Why?” Brittany’s voice was a little husky but still much too innocent for the look in her eyes, and she chased after Santana’s mouth for another kiss.

“Because … Britt … if you keep looking at me and kissing me like that, it’s really hard for me to remain … cool.” Santana’s eyes rolled when Brittany’s teeth found her earlobe. “Please, Britt … let’s just talk to our moms … and then go upstairs?”

Brittany stopped nibbling. “Okay,” she breathed. “But we need to make it quick.” 

Santana deemed it safer to get up and talk to their mothers in the kitchen so she untangled herself from Brittany’s hold and got onto her feet, pulling Brittany along. “Let’s go.”

\-------------

Annie and Maria were standing in the kitchen, mostly out of earshot of their daughters. They only had to crane their necks a little to see the living room, however, and that’s where Maria was currently looking while Annie poured them each some more wine from a fresh bottle.

“I can’t believe I never saw how in love they are.” Maria shook her head sadly as she accepted her wine from her friend.

“I guess I’ve seen it more than you have,” Annie said quietly. “But honestly? It’s only really become this visible since the summer.”

“Really?” Maria sounded relieved.

“Yeah. Before then, I could see it, mostly in Britt because she’s never been good at hiding her feelings, but Santana was much more guarded.” She took a sip of her wine. “And then one morning this summer, they came downstairs for breakfast and I could just tell something had changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Annie shrugged. “Santana couldn’t keep her eyes off of Brittany, which wasn’t all that unusual, but she had this small smile that she couldn’t stop. It was pretty damn adorable, really.”

Maria sighed. “I love you dearly, you know that, but right now I hate that you know my daughter so much better than I do.” There were tears in her eyes. “It feels like I missed so many important things in her life while I was busy being successful and building a career and—”

“Stop right there, Mari.” Annie pulled her friend into a hug. “You love Santana more than anything, I know that and she knows that, and you’re handling the situation really well right now. And I know that Santana loves you very much.”

“Does she?” Maria swallowed. “Does she know how much I love her? I wonder if she knows how important she is to me and to Tonio.”

“Tell her,” Annie said. “Tell her and show her. Be there for her when she needs you and let her be who she needs to be. She’s almost all grown up, Mari, they both are. So much so that it scares me sometimes. I wish they were still running around half naked and playing in the sandbox, you know?”

Maria nodded and wiped at her eyes. “I guess we should be happy then that we at least get along so well with the respective in-laws, huh?”

Annie chuckled. “Oh, yeah.” She hesitated. “Did you see that look on Brittany’s face when Santana mentioned living together?”

“Hard to miss.”

“Santana missed it, though.”

“Well, apparently my daughter sometimes has trouble seeing the obvious from what I’ve heard.” Maria chuckled lightly and leaned into her friend. “I think I’m a little drunk.”

“A little?” Annie snorted. “Yeah, me too. You should stay over tonight.”

Maria nodded. “What do you think they’ll choose?”

“Ten bucks say they’re going to stay here.”

“You think? I bet Santana would love her own apartment.”

“I still can’t believe you offered that, Mari.” Annie shook her head. “If Santana goes for that option I’m looking at a lot of nights of staying up and waiting for my daughter to come home.” She sighed. “I should kill you for even bringing that up. I don’t want them to sneak around behind my back.”

“Sorry,” Maria said. “I know it wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve had, but …”

“But you wanted to make it up to Santana for having to leave your house because of your monster-in-law, and you were going a _little_ overboard. Just like you did on her sixteenth birthday when you just had to get her that brand new car.”

“That car that your daughter gets a ride to school in every morning, you mean?”

“Yup, that’s the one.” 

They looked at each other over the rim of their wine glasses and suddenly burst out laughing, which is how Santana and Brittany found them when they came into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Brittany said with a laugh. “You two look happy.”

Santana grinned. “That, and a little drunk, I think.”

“We’re just a little tipsy, young lady,” Maria admonished her daughter. “Can’t two old friends just laugh together?” She giggled and Santana stifled a laugh at the sound. She couldn’t remember ever hearing her mother giggle like that.

“So, ladies,” Annie chimed in. “Have you come to a conclusion?” She reached over and removed a bit of smudged lip gloss from Brittany’s cheek. “Or did you just use the time to make out? No sex in the living room, that’s a new rule in this house.”

“Mom!” Brittany squealed and Santana blushed a bright red, feeling totally embarrassed. “That’s totally inopportune.”

“Inappropriate,” Annie and Santana said simultaneously. “Yeah, maybe,” Annie added with a shrug. “It’s true, though, isn’t it? You did make out.” 

Santana groaned. _Where’s that hole in the ground when you need it?_

“Anyway, moving on,” Maria tried to get the conversation back on track. 

Santana inwardly thanked her mother. “I’m going to stay here, if it’s okay with you,” she said, looking at Annie.

Annie smirked and held out her hand towards Maria. “You owe me ten bucks, Mari.”

\------------------

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother drunk,” Santana said as she and Brittany walked into their bedroom.

“My mom doesn’t get drunk often either.” Brittany closed the door behind them. “I think they were just having a good time.”

“Your mother sure loved torturing us just now,” Santana grumbled. Her mood had visibly changed somewhere between the armchair and the bedroom.

Brittany walked over to her. “Everything okay?”

Santana avoided Brittany’s eyes. She hated being teased and feeling embarrassed, even or maybe especially in front of Brittany and her family. Logically, she knew there was nothing to be really mad about, but there was a part of her that was just a little angry with Brittany for kissing her like that when their mothers could see or hear them and for putting her in this position. 

For a second she keenly felt the downside of basically living in one room with Brittany with nowhere else to go. Normally, she’d just go home to regroup and get her equilibrium back, and she resented not having that option. She couldn’t even go into another room with the Tiny Irish hogging the spare room, even if he was probably hanging out with Finn the Orca again. The more she thought about the situation, the moodier she became, but the biggest problem was that no matter how mad she was, her body still pulled her towards Brittany. _Traitor._

Brittany watched the storm clouds chasing each other across Santana’s face. She knew there was something going on, but she couldn’t figure out what. She cupped Santana’s face in both of her hands and gently pulled it upwards so she could look into dark eyes. The storm clouds were visible in them as well, she could see, once Santana gave up on trying to avoid her gaze.

“What?” Santana’s voice was bordering on hostile. 

“Wow, I haven’t heard _that_ voice in a while,” Brittany said quietly. _Especially not directed at me._ “Okay, what did I do?”

Santana tried to look away, but found herself unable to when she saw the pleading look in Brittany’s eyes. “Nothing,” she sighed.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” 

“Let it go, Britt.”

“If it’s nothing what is there to let go of?” Brittany was not in the mood for evasive tactics. She had hoped they could continue where they had left off downstairs. “One minute we’re making out and the next you’re totally—” She stopped when she felt Santana’s face tense at what she said. _Of course … Santana felt bad about being teased by mom._

Brittany kept staring into Santana’s eyes, trying to come up with something to say or do. Santana was getting a little worried despite herself when Brittany stayed quiet for what felt like minutes. “Britt?”

“You know,” Brittany started, her voice shaking a little, “I love you, Santana.” Her right thumb moved gently across Santana’s cheekbone. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and ever since we’ve started dating officially, I find you even more irreversible than before.”

_I’m irresistible?_ Santana wasn’t sure where Brittany was going with this, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy hearing it. “I know—”

“Shh,” Brittany interrupted gently. “Just listen to me. I know you’re upset because my mom teased you about making out with me just now, and I’m so, so sorry that it made you uncomfortable.” She sighed sadly. “I don’t want our sweet lady kisses to make you feel bad. Like _ever_. And I don’t think my mom wanted to make you feel bad either. She’s just happy for us and she doesn’t mind when we kiss and stuff … and I’m happy that we’re together and that we have each other.”

Santana felt every word deep inside, touching her heart. _God, she regrets kissing me when all she wanted was to show me she loved me. I’m such an overly sensitive, selfish bitch._ “Britt …”

“And when you said those things about living together soon, all I wanted was to kiss you,” Brittany continued, ignoring Santana’s interruption. “I just _had_ to kiss you, no matter who was there or could see or hear because hearing that made me really, really happy. It made me happy because it’s what I’ve been dreaming about since I was five. Please don’t be mad at me for that.”

“Oh God, Britt, no, I’m not mad at you,” Santana whispered. _At least not any more. How could I be?_ “ _I’m_ sorry I’m such a bitch. Kissing you is the best feeling in the world and I don’t ever want you to feel bad about our sweet lady kisses. It was just that … your mom stepped over my teasing threshold, and I lost sight of the really important things for a moment.”

“What things?”

Santana leaned closer and pressed light kisses on Brittany’s forehead, eyes and nose, slowly working her way to her lips. Once their lips touched, she tried to pour all of her feelings into the kiss, her love, her anguish at making Brittany sad, her hopes for the future, everything. 

They parted after a deliciously long moment. “I meant what I said downstairs,” Santana squeezed out through a throat tightened by feelings. “I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up in your arms every morning.” Her eyes locked onto Brittany’s, holding her gaze as if her life depended on it. 

Brittany thought she could actually see all of Santana’s feelings swirling in her eyes, now that the storm clouds were gone. The eyes were a deep chocolate brown and they spoke of love and devotion. In that moment, Brittany saw herself looking into these eyes in two years, ten years, fifty years. 

Santana spoke again, her voice reaching out to Brittany’s heart. “You’re … you’re my everything, Brittany. You’re it for me.”

Brittany threw her arms around Santana’s neck and pulled her into a tight hug with a small sob. “You’re my one, too, Santana. You’re it for me, too,” she whispered fiercely into Santana’s ear. She felt safe and secure in Santana’s tight hold, listening to Santana’s whispered words of love, and she came to a decision. _Tomorrow_ , she thought. 

That was the last coherent thought she had before Santana crashed their mouths together in a heated kiss and they tumbled onto the bed in a tangled heap.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own them. Pity.

Santana woke up on Saturday morning alone in Brittany’s bed. She felt around for her girlfriend, still half asleep, but all she could feel were the cool sheets that indicated that Brittany had left quite a while ago. Santana frowned. _So much for waking up in her arms._

She rolled over and buried her face in Brittany’s pillow with a pout, feeling equally grumpy and silly about it. “You’re pathetic”, she mumbled into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. _Really fucking pathetic. She’s probably in the bathroom or something, so get over yourself and get your ass out of bed._

“Hey, you’re awake!” Brittany’s voice was happy and playful and Santana looked up to see her practically skipping into the room.

Santana scowled. “Where were you?”

Brittany jumped on the bed and pulled Santana into her arms. “I had to go do something. Why?”

“Nothing, ignore me,” Santana mumbled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just woke up a little grumpy.”

Brittany looked at her knowingly. “Did you miss me?”

“No, it’s fine … if you had to do something, you had to do something … it’s fine.”

Brittany smiled against Santana’s hair. “You know, it’s perfectly okay to admit it.” She pulled away slightly to look into Santana’s eyes. “I was wide awake and you looked so sweet sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you up. I wanted to be back before you woke up, but I ran into mom downstairs.”

Santana wrapped her arms tighter around Brittany, feeling a lot less grumpy by the second. “I missed you,” she admitted.

“I know,” Brittany replied. “Still grumpy?”

Santana shook her head.

“Good.” Brittany cupped Santana’s face into both her hands. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

She barely got the question out before Santana’s lips were on her mouth and she felt herself pushed backwards onto the bed. They kissed for long minutes, thoroughly enjoying each other, lips and tongues exploring languidly. When they broke apart, even the last trace of a scowl was gone from Santana’s face, replaced by a content expression. 

“I love your smile,” Brittany whispered.

“And I love that you can always make me smile,” Santana replied and leaned close for another kiss. “So what were you up to this early in the morning?” she asked after a long, delicious moment.

“It’s not really that early, San.” Brittany sat up and moved around until she was sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of Santana. She took a breath. “Can we talk about something?”

Santana sat up across from Brittany, her throat dry. Nobody liked that question, ever. She ran a mental checklist to try and come up with something she might have done or said, but drew a blank. “Did I do something wrong?”

Brittany laughed in surprise. “Nope.” A sunny grin spread over her face. “In fact, you did everything right.”

Santana felt a little lost, but at least it didn’t seem that whatever Brittany had on her mind was bad. “Okay,” she said hesitantly.

“Santana,” Brittany began, her voice sounding confident. “I think we should talk about our future.”

Santana sat up a little straighter. That was not what she had expected, but she agreed that they had to talk. “Yeah, sure. I mean we should probably— “

A finger on her lips stopped Santana. “San, can you just let me talk. Please? It won’t take long.” 

Santana nodded. Her brain was trying to come up with reasons why Brittany was so serious. She kissed the finger that was still pressed against her lips, not quite sure if she was reassuring herself or Brittany with the gesture.

Brittany smiled. “Remember when you said last night that you wanted to wake up in my arms every morning?” Santana nodded again. “I want that, too. I want to do everything with you, you know? Always.” She took a breath and looked away for a second. “That’s why I want to give you something.”

Brittany dug around in the pockets of her sweats and finally pulled out what looked like a bunched up red napkin. Santana raised an eyebrow in question but stayed quiet. Brittany put the napkin in her left hand and unfolded it with the right. Inside was a wide, polished metal band.

“Brittany.” It sounded more like a breath than a word. “What--?”

Brittany ignored Santana and picked up the object. “I made this for you a couple of years ago.” She looked shy all of a sudden. “And I think now is a good time to give it to you.” She looked into Santana’s wide eyes. “I hope you … Will you wear it?”

Santana stared at the ring for long moments. _Was Brittany proposing? Or just giving her a present?_ “Brittany?” she finally asked. “What does this … Are you …?”

Brittany saw the confusion. “I love you, Santana,” she explained quietly. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I will ever love anyone else, and I wanted to give you the ring as a reminder that I want to be with you forever.”

Santana felt a wave of emotion rise in her throat. “Brittany … are you asking me to marry you?” she managed to ask, needing to hear the words to be sure that was what was going on.

“Yes,” was Brittany’s simple reply. “Will you?”

Santana took another moment to look at the ring, still resting in the middle of the red napkin on Brittany’s hand. It was a simple band, fashioned from some kind of metal as far as she could see. _Brittany said she made that ring._ Santana marveled at the thought. _My kick-ass girlfriend actually_ made _me an engagement ring._ She felt tears well up in her eyes at the thought of being so loved, and there was also a lot of pride for her girlfriend. But the reality was … 

“Britt … I love you … but we’re _way_ too young to get married,” she whispered. “We’re so young and there’s so much to experience before we take that step.”

Santana wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she would get from Brittany, but a nod wasn’t one of them. Brittany looked like she had expected something like that from Santana.

“I know we’re young, Santana,” Brittany said calmly. “Although we’re older than my parents were when they got married.”

“Your mom was pregnant and about to be deported, Britt,” Santana threw in with a sardonic smile. 

Brittany laughed. “True. But that doesn’t matter, really.” She picked up the ring. “I’ve wanted to marry you since you made me chase you all over the playground when we were five years old, Santana. I made this ring the summer before junior year. I heard about rings made from coins and I thought that was a cool idea, so I looked it up online. And then I made this because I thought it would be something you might wear, even at school.” She looked at Santana. “It’s not too big or flashy, so I thought you could even wear it with the uniform and it wouldn’t really get in the way. And nobody would ask stupid questions about it …”

Santana felt a tear roll down her cheek. Brittany had put a lot of love and thought into this. She knew right then she would wear the ring until they had to pry it from her cold, dead hands, no matter what.

“I would have given you the ring sooner, but … we weren’t in a good place last year, so …” Brittany trailed off with a shrug.

“Because I was an idiot,” Santana admitted.

Brittany shrugged again. “What do you see when you think about all the things you want to do until you think you’re old enough to get married, San?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just said that we’re too young and that there were so many things to do before that. What do you see? Are you doing those things alone? Or with … someone else?”

Santana realized suddenly that Brittany sounded more mature than she had ever heard her, as if the decision to do this now made her all grown-up. She found it incredibly sexy. She pushed away thoughts of kissing Brittany senseless and focused on the question. What _did_ she see? 

A colorful collage of images flitted across her mind. A college campus with her sitting under a tree, reading some textbook while running a hand through the hair of a blonde girl who was lying in her lap listening to her iPod. She saw herself traveling, she saw planes, trains, cars, famous sights she explored, saw herself pointing up the Eiffel tower while looking at the beautiful girl by her side, saw the same girl riding an elephant somewhere while she took photos of her. She saw a nice, small apartment that she was definitely sharing with someone, with that same blonde girl. And that someone was Brittany. She couldn’t even imagine anyone else.

“I see lots of things, Brittany,” she finally answered. “College, traveling, day-to-day life …” She let her voice trail off.

“Do you see someone else with you … someone who is …”

Santana smiled. “Someone who is not you?” Santana took Brittany’s face in her hands and kissed her gently. “No, Brittany, there’s nobody but you. You’re beside me, always.”

“Why are you too young to get married then? If I am by your side anyway?” Brittany asked quietly. “Because I’m not. Too young to get married, I mean. I know exactly what I want and I’ve known for 13 years.”

Santana’s smile grew wider. “I think you’re amazing, Brittany, and I love you, but there are so many things that could happen to us.” She sighed. “You could meet some amazing dancer and decide that I’m boring. Or you could realize that I’m too much of a bitch to be around. You could fall in love with someone else …”

Brittany seemed to give this some thought. “Nope, not going to happen.”

“It did happen, though … you chose Wheels last year.”

Brittany sighed. “Yes, I chose Artie and I did love him … but I wasn’t _in_ love with him. Not like I’m in love with you.”

Santana nodded, conceding the point. “Still, our parents are going to think we’re too young and _all_ our friends are going to think we’re crazy.” Santana realized that her excuses were beginning to sound a little like she was actually thinking of saying yes. _Oh God, who are you kidding, Lopez. When was the last time you managed to say no to Brittany?_

Brittany saw the chink in the armor and pounced on it. “Santana, I promise that we’ll have a really, really long engagement. All I want is for you to wear my ring, so everyone knows you’re mine and I’m yours. We can even keep the engagement a secret and just say it was a random gift, if that makes you feel better.” 

Brittany held up the ring with her right hand and took Santana’s hand with her left. Then she looked straight into Santana’s eyes. “Santana Lopez, will you wear my ring and marry me when we agree the time is right?”

Santana nodded. There simply was nothing else to do. “Yes, Brittany, I’ll wear your ring and I’ll marry you when the time is right.” She paused. “But I’m not going to make you keep another secret, Brittany. If somebody asks, we could say it’s a promise ring. Is that okay?”

Brittany cocked her head. “Well, an engagement is a promise, isn’t it?” 

Santana felt the cool metal slide onto her finger, the ring a perfect fit. Then Brittany’s lips met hers and she lost herself in a heartfelt kiss.

When they parted after long, delicious moments, Santana looked at her hand, admiring the way the metal glinted on her hand. She wanted Brittany to wear a ring as well. “Britt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you teach me how to make a ring like this? For you?”

Brittany nodded, her smile lighting the whole room.

**********

They spent the next half hour cuddling on the bed. Brittany explained the general process of making a ring from a quarter in between kisses. Santana smiled at her ring. A lot. She felt different, but she wasn’t sure how or why.

“Do you feel different now?” she asked Brittany after another unhurried kiss.

Brittany noticed Santana’s glance at the ring. “You mean apart from being totally turned on right now?” she joked.

Santana burst out laughing. “Yes, Britt, apart from that. Although that’s always good to know.”

Brittany tilted her head to the side. “I feel … calm. Calm and safe. Does that make sense? Like we’re more solid now. Do you feel any different?”

_Calm and safe._ Santana thought about that. _Yes, that is what this is._ “I think calm and safe is a good way to describe it,” she said out loud. “It feels like my ring is … an anchor and you can’t float away now.” Her voice a broke a little. “It feels like I get to keep you.”

Brittany hugged her close. “I’m not going anywhere, Santana, ring or no ring. But if the ring makes you feel that, then I _really_ want one, too,” she teased and played with the ring on Santana’s finger. “I want to be able to look at my hand and know that it’s all real.”

“You’ll get your ring, Brittany. As soon as you show me how to make it.” Santana hesitated. “Are we going to tell our parents?”

“Do you really think we could keep a ring from them?” Brittany asked with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not like it’s going to be a big surprise for them.”

“Maybe not for your mom, but I’m pretty sure your dad and my parents will be pretty surprised.” Santana suddenly chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just wondering what Ms. Holiday would think about us now.”

“I think she’d be proud of you, San,” Brittany said. “Maybe we should call her. She could come see us perform at Sectionals and then we could tell her.”

“Sure,” Santana agreed. “That reminds me … we have dance rehearsal this afternoon, right?”

Santana watched the smile that grew on Brittany’s face as she remembered. _Dancing always makes her happy. I wonder what kind of choreography she has cooked up for us with Ms. Corcoran. I wonder if anybody else is going to be able to dance it …_

Brittany laughed at the look on Santana’s face. “Don’t worry, babe, you’ll enjoy it.”

Santana’s reply was stopped by her phone vibrating on the nightstand. She reached over to pick it up and saw it was a text message from Quinn. “Huh,” she said when she read it.

“What’s up?” Brittany asked.

“Quinn is sending a 911,” Santana replied absent-mindedly. She had a feeling she knew what this was going to be about. “I think I better call her.”

Brittany leaned over to kiss Santana. “I’m going to go downstairs and make some breakfast. Come down when you’re done?”

Santana nodded. “I won’t be long.”

Brittany walked out of the room while Santana scrolled to Quinn’s number. Quinn answered on the second ring. “Yo, Q, what has you so freaked out?”

***************

The first thing Brittany saw downstairs was her father laughing lightly to himself while looking at something in the kitchen. Curious, she walked over and grinned at the sight of her and Santana’s mothers sitting at the kitchen table looking a little worse for wear.

“See, Britt,” her father said, “ _that’s_ why you shouldn’t drink too much.” 

Brittany decided not to mention that she’d had her fair share of hangovers and moved over to the kitchen counter. “Does anybody want coffee?”

Two hands limply rose at the table. She looked at her father but he waved her off and walked towards his office, still chuckling.

Wordlessly, Brittany filled two large glasses with water and grabbed a bottle of pills from a cabinet and put them on the table. “Take two each and drink all the water,” she said quietly. “I’m going to make some breakfast.” 

“Oh, he… heck no,” came her mother’s reply. “Remember what happened the last time, kleintje?”

Brittany laughed. “I think I can manage some toast and San can make the rest when she comes down.”

“Did I hear my name?” Santana appeared in the kitchen. She took one look at the two women at the table and burst out laughing.

“San, that’s mean,” Brittany admonished her, although she couldn’t stop grinning herself. 

“You don’t think they would so the same thing to us if we looked like that?”

Maria Lopez mumbled something that sounded like “go away” around the rim of her glass and downed the pills. 

“Let’s feed them, Britt,” Santana said as she started pulling out a couple of pans, not trying to be particularly quiet about it. _You’re evil, Santana, but they deserve it after the teasing last night._ She grinned as she cracked a handful of eggs. 

“So, what was Quinn’s emergency?” Brittany asked as she put a cup of coffee down next to Santana, who smiled gratefully.

“She’s a little freaked out about something that happened at the party last night.” Santana remembered that Brittany had no idea what she and Quinn had talked about the night before. “She wants to meet later at the Lima Bean. I told her we could get together before our rehearsal. Is that okay with you? You don’t have to come, though.”

“No, it’s fine, I want to see Quinn. Are you going to tell me what has her freaked out?”

Santana nodded. “I’ll tell you on the way over,” she said with a look over her shoulder towards the zombies at the kitchen table. Brittany nodded. 

Santana went back to scrambling the eggs as Brittany started on the pancake batter. It felt incredibly domestic and very good. Santana smiled softly at Brittany who must have had similar thought because she was smiling back at her with the same soft expression on her face.

“This is what I see when I think about the future,” Brittany whispered softly. “But there are kids at the table, not our mothers.”

“That sounds nice,” Santana whispered back. “As long as we stop at two ... I don’t think I could survive six kids.”

Brittany laughed quietly. “I was kidding about that, San.”

“Oh, good.” Santana’s relief was palpable. She didn’t think she was much of a kid person, but she would try because she knew Brittany would be a fantastic mom one day. 

Santana pushed the eggs onto four plates, adding a couple of pancakes to each and put them on the table. Their mothers were both beginning to look a little more alert, but they were still desperately holding on to their coffees.

“What did you do last night after we went upstairs?” she asked her mother.

“Yeah, you weren’t that bad when we left you,” Brittany added.

“It’s all her fault,” Maria mumbled, pointing a finger at Annie. “She decided to get out the tequila.”

Annie groaned. “Don’t remind me. Sounded like a great idea at the time.” 

Maria took a spoonful of eggs. “Thank you for making breakfast, mija. I don’t think I’ve been this drunk since college.” She looked at Santana and Brittany in turn. “Please let me apologize for our behavior, we really shouldn’t have gotten this drunk.”

Annie nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry, too.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Santana said. “You had a fun night and now you’re paying for it.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Brittany agreed. “And you’ll feel much better after breakfast.” 

They all went back to eating when suddenly Maria asked, “What’s that, mija?”

“What’s what, mom?”

“On your hand. Annie, look.”

Annie looked at Santana’s hand and smirked. “Anything you two want to tell us?”

Santana looked at Brittany, leaving the decision up to her. Brittany met her eyes, a mischievous grin on her lips, and then turned to Annie and Maria. “Oh, it’s nothing. Santana and I got married last night,” she said seriously. “Lord Tubbington performed the ceremony.”

Two forks dropped noisily onto plates. “What?” Annie asked. “How--?”

Santana and Brittany laughed out loud at the looks on their mothers’ faces, which relaxed slightly at hearing the laughter. “Oh, that was cruel, Brittany,” Maria said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Maybe a little,” Brittany said with a grin. “Okay, we’re not married.”

“But we’re going to be at some point in the future,” Santana added. She didn’t want any secrets between Brittany and her family … and her own family as well.

Maria and Annie looked at each other, then at their daughters. “You do know that you’re too young, right?” Maria asked.

Santana nodded while Brittany scowled and Annie blushed. 

“It’s a promise, Mrs. Lopez,” Brittany said. “And we’re definitely not too young to make a promise.”

Maria shook her head with a sigh. “Brittany …”

Annie stopped her friend with a hand on her arm. “Britt … and Santana,” she addressed them both, “promise us that you won’t run headlong into something you’re not ready for?”

Both girls nodded. 

“Okay then,” Annie said and went back to her eggs.

“That’s all you have to say?” Maria stared at her friend. 

Annie nodded. “Maria, they made each other a promise that’s been years in the making,” she said, her voice gentle. “They won’t do anything stupid, I’m sure.” She sent a loaded look at the girls, who nodded in response. “So yes, I think it’s okay.”

Maria looked resigned. “You … you … you’re such a hippie!” she exclaimed, exasperated.

Annie grinned. “Yep, and you love me.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Santana and Brittany decided this was a good time to leave.

***************

“Your mom is the chillest person I know.” Santana backed her car onto the street. “I hope she can calm my mom down.”

Brittany laughed. “I don’t think your mom was that bad, but yeah my mom is probably going to talk to her some more.”

“I think those two were actually the easy part,” Santana said. “I’m not sure I want to know what our dads have to say.”

“Leave that to our moms then, they’ll tell them.”

Santana nodded. “I wonder what my abuela is going to think,” she murmured quietly. “She’s probably going to hate me even more.”

Brittany didn’t know what to say, so she reached over and covered Santana’s hand with her own and squeezed. “She’s going to come around one day,” she finally said. “One day she’s going to realize how much she loves you and then it’s going to be okay.”

Santana smiled softly at Brittany. “Let’s hope so … but I’m not going to hold my breath.”

“So what’s with Quinn?” Brittany decided it was time to change the subject.

Santana shot her a grateful look. “Well, turns out that Quinn isn’t as straight as she thought.”

“Okay,” Brittany drawled.

“Not surprised either, huh?”

“Not particularly,” Brittany admitted. “Is she panicking because of that?”

“No.” Santana shook her head for emphasis. “I think she’s freaking out because she might like Berry.”

“Rachel?” Brittany laughed.

“Yep, little Ms. Streisand-wannabe.”

Brittany made a face. “Her taste in girls is almost as bad as her taste in guys.”

Santana focused on the road, swallowing nervously. “I might have offered that we’d go on a double date with them if Quinn needed the support,” she said sheepishly.

“Really? Damn, San, you’re too nice sometimes!” Brittany looked pensive. “I have to come up with some subtle ways to torture her then.”

******

“Hey, you two,” Quinn greeted them from a table by the window.

“Hey, Q.”

“Hey, Quinn.” Santana pulled a chair out for Brittany to sit. She missed the raised eyebrow Quinn shot her. “The usual, Britt?” Brittany nodded and Santana looked at Quinn. “You?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Quinn replied, lifting her almost full cup.

“Okay, be right back.”

“She’s perky today, not to mention whipped,” Quinn remarked as soon as Santana was out of earshot. “What did you do to her this morning?”

Brittany blushed a little. “Nothing special.”

Quinn gave her a look. “Hmm, if you say so.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Santana said you have rehearsal later?”

Brittany nodded excitedly, already looking forward to it. “It’s going to be so totally cool,” she said. “But I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about it,” she added sadly. “Why aren’t you in the Troubletones with us, Quinn?”

“Because Shelby didn’t want me and rightfully so,” Quinn said honestly. “I wanted to join to get back at Shelby, not because I wanted to leave the New Directions.”

“You don’t like Ms. Corcoran because of Beth, right?”

Quinn nodded, unsurprised that Brittany figured it out without asking many questions. She was good that way. “I just thought it wasn’t fair of her to dangle Beth in my face.”

“She dangled the baby in your face?” Brittany gasped.

“Not literally, B.” Quinn grinned. “What I meant was that having Beth here reminds me every day of the fact that I gave birth to her and then I gave her up.”

“But wasn’t giving her up a good thing? I thought it was a good thing because Ms. Corcoran is pretty awesome. Not as awesome as Ms. Holiday, but still awesome.”

“That’s pretty much what Santana said about her, too.”

“What did I say about whom?” Santana put down two large cups and a muffin and sat down close to Brittany.

“You said that Shelby is pretty cool,” Quinn replied.

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Quinn sighed. 

“So, Quinn,” Santana decided to get to the point of their little meeting. “What happened last night after Britts and I left?”

Quinn let out a huge breath. “I kissed Rachel.”

“Yeah, I saw that … but that you were playing spin the bottle, so it doesn’t really—”

“No … I mean yes, that … but I also kissed her _later_!” Quinn practically shouted, but dropped down to a whisper near the end. 

“Details, Q!” Santana leaned over the table. “What happened?”

Quinn took a long sip from her cup. “I was so nervous when that bottle pointed at me and she leaned over to kiss me.”

“Yeah, you looked a little … shaken,” Santana commented quietly.

“Being the only sober person in the room after you two left wasn’t exactly helping either,” Quinn mumbled.

“Is Rachel a good kisser?” Brittany asked as if she were asking about the weather.

Quinn blushed. “She’s very good.”

Santana tried to shake the image off. “So, the kiss was good … then what?”

“The first kiss wasn’t all that good,” Quinn admitted. “I was so nervous that I was just sitting there, so it didn’t take all that long. But then it was my turn to spin and the bottle landed on Rachel, so I got another chance.” Quinn absent-mindedly began picking at Brittany’s muffin. “This time I decided to focus on the kiss and to do it right.”

Santana grinned. “And?”

“And it was good.” Quinn smiled shyly. “Really good.”

“Why are you freaked out then?” Brittany asked.

Quinn stared at Santana. “Did you tell her I was freaking out?”

Santana held up a hand. “Q, you sent a 911 on a Saturday morning … of course you were freaking out.” 

Brittany nodded. “Exactly. So … why?”

Quinn sighed. “I was … am freaking out because that’s not all that happened.”

“Okay, spill it,” Santana said, sitting up in her chair.

“After that second kiss I went outside for another cigarette … I really needed one … and I really needed to get away from Rachel for a second to think. Kissing her felt so … amazing, and I think you were right last night, Santana, when you said I’d know if I had feelings for her … at one point I’d just know.”

Santana nodded.

“So I was standing outside trying to wrap my head around the fact that I might accidentally have developed feelings for Rachel,” Quinn continued. “My ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend.” She groaned. “I was just trying to figure out what to do, you know?”

“And did you figure it out?”

Quinn shook her head. “Didn’t have time. Rachel followed me out and before I could say anything she had pushed me up against the wall kissing me. And I mean _really_ kissing me.”

Santana was impressed, not that she was ever going to admit that. “Didn’t think the hobbit had it in her.”

“Stop calling her names, S,” Quinn spat.

“I’m just messing with you, Q, relax.”

“I’m still not sure why you’re freaking out,” Brittany said. “Sounds to me like things were going great.”

“I thought so, too,” Quinn said. “Until Rachel suddenly stopped and started crying and then ran back inside.”

“Why did she do that?” Brittany asked. 

“I don’t know,” Quinn mumbled.

“Well, what did she say about it?” Brittany tried to catch Quinn’s eyes. “She must have said something.”

Santana watched Quinn closely. “Quinn didn’t ask,” she stated quietly.

Quinn shook her head. “I couldn’t … I went home … I didn’t know what to do.” She sounded confused and sad. “How did you know?” she asked Santana.

“Because that’s what I would have done up to a while ago.” _I know how you feel … I’ve been there, Q._

Brittany reached over and covered Santana’s hand with her own, her other hand moving over to Quinn’s arm. “I know you’re feeling weird right now, Quinn, but you need to go talk to Rachel because I think she’s probably feeling pretty weird, too.”

Santana nodded. “At least you knew you were attracted to girls before last night … you don’t know what’s going on with Rachel.”

“What if she was just drunk out of her mind and missing Finn?” Quinn asked, her voice small.

“What if she wasn’t?” Brittany countered.

“You won’t know unless you talk to her,” Santana added. 

Quinn nodded with a sigh. “You’re right, of course … I’m just scared.”

“I know,” Santana said, reaching over to put her hand next to Brittany’s on Quinn’s arm. “Believe me, I know. But it’s the only thing you can do. At least then you’ll know.”

“Okay, okay … I’ll go talk to her.” Quinn paused and stared at her friends’ hands. She frowned. Santana never ever wore jewelry on her hands. “New ring, Santana?”

Santana unconsciously moved her ring finger. “Yes, very new,” she replied calmly. “Britt gave it to me this morning.”

“Is this a … does that mean … Are you two …?” Quinn watched as Santana blushed, her face turning dark.

“It’s a promise ring, Quinn,” Brittany said simply.

Quinn smiled knowingly. “If you say so.”

Santana rolled her eyes. “We have to go, Britt.” She stood and watched as Quinn and Brittany stood as well. “Good luck with Rachel, Q.”

“Thanks. I’m probably going to need it.” 

They walked out together. At the door, Quinn stopped Santana with a hand on her elbow. She leaned in close and whispered, “If you make me wear an ugly dress as your bridesmaid, I’m going to kill you.”

And then she left, leaving Santana to stare after her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own them.

It was almost noon when Maria Lopez left the Pierce house to go home. She and Annie had talked long after Santana and Brittany had left to meet Quinn, and by now Maria had accepted that Annie was right: this engagement or promise or whatever the girls wanted to call it had been years in the making. 

The problem was just that it hadn’t been like that for Maria. Annie was the one who had been privy to the closeness between the girls, was the one who had been able to watch how Santana and Brittany had grown closer and closer until there was nothing there that separated them. 

Part of her was bitter about that and she had no problem admitting it. She might even have thrown a bit of a fit this morning after the girls had left the house. But a bigger part of her knew that it had been her fault. There was always too much work, too little time and being close to Santana more often than not had fallen by the wayside.

That’s why her mother-in-law was so important to Santana – she had been there when her parents hadn’t. Santana’s abuela had been the primary caregiver for many years and Maria knew that Santana loved her grandmother very much, even if things hadn’t always been easy between them. That is why Maria was determined to go home and give the woman a piece of her mind.

Maria found Carmen sitting in an armchair by the window, looking out into the backyard. “Risen from your deathbed, I see,” she said walking in. Ever since the night Santana had come out to her family, Maria and Carmen had dropped all pretense of liking each other.

“What’s it to you?”

“Good news,” Maria stated. “That’s what it is to me because it means you’re more than fit to go live somewhere else.”

“In. Your. Dreams.” Carmen smiled evilly. “I’m not going anywhere, just so you can bring your evil spawn back here.”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Maria’s voice was quiet. “I know you love Santana, you pretty much raised her.” She walked over to Carmen and leaned back on the windowsill. “And we both know you’re not actually all that religious, so where does this hate come from? She’s still the same girl she always has been.”

Carmen just kept staring out into the garden, ignoring her daughter-in-law. After a few moments she looked up, meeting Maria’s eyes. “I did not raise her to be like … that, it’s wrong. It goes against everything I’ve been taught all my life. She should know better and she still chose to do this.”

Maria sighed. “It’s not a choice, Carmen, and I can tell you that it’s still a damn difficult life to live. But Santana and Brittany ... they were born the way they are. It’s not a choice, it’s who she is. She’s the same person you knew a month ago, a year ago, although I bet she’s a lot happier now because she doesn’t have to hide who she is any longer.”

“If this is who she is, then I never knew her,” Carmen said. “And if I don’t know her, I don’t have to care about her.”

“Is that how you can sleep at night?” Maria asked. “Does that help you get through the day? You _do_ know her, Carmen. She’s the little girl you helped raise. She’s the girl you taught to speak Spanish, she’s the girl you taught how to ride a bike. Santana loves you, you know … and you’re hurting her for no good reason at all.”

“I have my reasons.”

“I have my reasons, too,” Maria calmly said as she pushed herself off the windowsill. “And I’m giving you an ultimatum. Next Friday Santana, Brittany and her show choir are competing against other show choirs. You will either be there and support the girls and be nice to them and accept them as the wonderful girls they are, or you’re moving out the next day. I don’t really care where, but you will be out of here by noon on Saturday if you don’t show up for the show choir competition. Comprende?”

Maria didn’t expect a reply, but she saw Carmen nod once. Satisfied, Maria turned and left the older woman to her thinking.

************************

“Okay, let’s run through the beginning one more time.” Shelby Corcoran’s voice rang out through the auditorium. She was really quite happy already with their numbers for Sectionals but it never hurt to drill the steps into the girls’ brains until they could barely remember how to walk and not dance.

She watched the girls go through the motions. All of them had finally managed to get the arm movements just right, but the hardest part was to make it look coordinated and not just random. Satisfied that the girls had it all down, she interrupted them.

“Right, looking good, ladies,” she praised their efforts. “Brittany, can you lead everyone through the tango part now, please?”

“Sure.” Brittany nodded and stepped out in front of the others. She explained the steps several times, making them look effortless, before she motioned for Santana to join her. 

“Okay, on cue you’re going to pull your partner to you like this.” She pulled Santana close to her and grinned at the quiet gasp that tumbled from her girlfriend’s lips. “Don’t fight about who leads because we’re switching leads halfway through anyway.” She led them through the tango steps, glad that Santana let her push them around the floor with ease. “At this point, you’ll switch,” she explained while letting go of the lead at the same time. She hoped that Santana had picked up the steps, but she needn’t have worried. Santana pulled it off, although it wasn’t really all that smooth yet.

“Right,” Brittany said once they had run through the steps twice to show the others. “Any question?”

“Yes, actually,” Mercedes piped up. “Why does Santana get to dance with you?”

“Yeah, good question,” Sugar added.

Brittany and Santana gave them both incredulous looks. “Look, Wheezy, if you think—”

Mercedes laughed and help up a hand to stop Santana. “Calm yo tits, Satan, I’m just kidding,” she said with a wide grin.

Santana growled but couldn’t contain the grin that spread out across her face. “Cute, Wheezy, very cute.”

Brittany smiled at Santana and Mercedes, glad that they had developed a solid friendship over the past couple of months. “Okay then,” she finally said. “Any _real_ questions.”

Everyone shook their heads and proceeded to pair up with their designated dance partner before Brittany began leading them through the steps once again.

Shelby watched the rehearsal from her seat at the director’s table. While she watched all the girls at some point, most of her focus was on Brittany. She wanted to see how Brittany handled this dance practice. It was mostly her choreography and Shelby knew that Brittany had it in her to lead this rehearsal. 

Her mind wandered a little as she watched the way Brittany handled the problems that were unfolding before her eyes. Mercedes and Sugar seemed to have some communication issue going on that hindered their efforts, but Brittany managed to coax them gently into working together. 

Shelby had enough Broadway experience to know she was looking at a formidable choreographer in the making. _I need to talk to that girl about her future. She belongs on Broadway._ She thought of Rachel, whose dream it was to be a huge Broadway star. She tried not to compare Rachel and Brittany’s chances, but couldn’t help it. _There are so many great voices out there, but truly gifted choreographers are rare._ She knew that both girls had what it took, but if she had to put money down on who would win a Tony first, she’d put it on Brittany. _I wonder what Santana’s plans are … and if they include New York._

She decided to talk to the girls later. If there was any chance that Brittany was interested in a career in choreography, she would call some of her old friends to give her a head start and some contacts in the city. 

*************

Santana was hot. Really, _really_ hot. Uncomfortably so, and it had almost nothing to do with physical exertion. Sure, they had been dancing for a while now, but it wasn’t the dance rehearsal as such that had her feeling so hot. No, it was the way she was pulled so, so close to Brittany again and again, the way their legs rubbed against each other when they moved. 

And then there was the assertive way Brittany moved between the rest of The Troubletones, correcting a step here and a handhold there, always nice, always finding the right words for every one of the girls. She even managed to make Mercedes follow whatever she told her to do and Santana just _knew_ that only Brittany was able to do that. 

All Santana wanted to do was drag Brittany into an empty room somewhere and have her way with her. Hell, at this point she was thinking about just dragging her behind the curtain at the back of the stage. She looked at her feet with a sigh. It probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon and she wasn’t sure Brittany would appreciate Santana turning all cavewoman and dragging her away anyway. 

She felt a presence next to her and lifted her head, immediately meeting the blue gaze of her girlfriend. She gasped when she saw the look in Brittany’s eyes. _Seems like I’m not the only one affected by the dancing. Huh._

“Hey,” Santana said quietly.

“Hey back.” Brittany’s voice held an undertone Santana couldn’t quite place. “You have to stop looking at me like that, San,” Brittany continued.

“Like what?” Santana couldn’t stop the flirty half-smirk that appeared on her face.

“Like I’m an all-marshmallow box of Lucky Charms that you can’t wait to dive into,” Brittany replied. 

“God, Brittany,” Santana croaked, her heart skipping a beat at the seductive grin on her girlfriend’s face. “When are we done here? Please tell me we’re done for today?”

“Not for a while yet, no.” Brittany leaned close to Santana to whisper in her ear. “But as soon as we’re done, I’m going to drag you into the choir room and I’m going to bend you over that piano and—”

“Stop, please,” Santana groaned, feeling the wetness between her thighs increase. “Unless you’re going to do that right now … you need to stop.” She took a deep breath. “God, you’re evil.”

Brittany let go of her with a tiny evil grin and a wink. “Just the way you love me.” With that she walked back to the other dancers.

Santana growled, frustrated beyond belief. She knew they were far from done with the rehearsal, but her body wasn’t convinced and wasn’t really in the mood to negotiate. It wanted release, and soon.

“Hey, Satan, you okay?” Mercedes asked from a few feet away. Santana hadn’t even noticed her coming over. “You look … flustered and sorta uncomfortable. And a little hot.”

 _Uncomfortably aroused maybe._ “I’m fine, ’Cedes,” she replied, trying to inject an air of serenity into her voice. _I’m cool. I’m cool. Dammit._

Mercedes looked at her knowingly. “Uh-huh, if you say so.” She turned to walk back to Sugar, her dance partner for the tango, but looked back over her shoulder once more. “Maybe you should take a break and … cool off … for a minute. Just sayin’.”

Santana bit back a growl. “Yeah, sure.” _Like that’s gonna help._

*************

After another few minutes of watching Brittany, Santana decided to take Mercedes’ advice and try to cool off. She caught Ms. Corcoran’s eyes, mouthed the word “bathroom” and slipped out of the auditorium. 

She had no idea how long she’d been standing in front of the mirrors staring at herself without really seeing anything when the door to the bathroom opened and Brittany slipped through. Before Santana could say a word, Brittany grabbed her hand and dragged her into a stall. In the blink of an eye Santana found herself pressed against the stall door.

“Hi,” Brittany whispered, her eyes the most perfect shade of blue Santana had ever seen.

“Hey,” Santana whispered back. “What are you--?”

Brittany’s lips stopped whatever she might have wanted to ask and Santana figured it wasn’t really important anyway. The silken lips moving against her mouth were important, the tongue that was gently caressing her own was important, and the hand that knowingly moved over her body was important. But nothing else.

“Dios, Britt,” Santana moaned breathlessly, tearing her lips away from Brittany’s mouth only to feel those lips on her jaw and neck. “I want you so fucking much … all that dancing with you … and you being so great today … ungh … you’re so hot,” she panted between licks and nips and sucks. “I’m so wet for you.” She took Brittany’s hand and unceremoniously shoved it into her sweatpants. “I _want_ you.”

“You think I’m hot when I tell people what to do?” Brittany pressed her whole body harder into Santana, but didn’t move her hand closer to where Santana wanted it the most. “You think it would be hot if I told _you_ what to do?”

Santana hesitated long enough for Brittany to notice and stop her movements completely. “San?” she asked quietly. “We don’t have to—”

“Don’t stop, Britt, please,” Santana pleaded, snapping out of her little mental break. She really didn’t like thinking of herself as submissive, and they’d never done the power thing before, but right now all she could think was that she needed Brittany to make her come. “I’ll do anything you want … just please … don’t stop.”

Brittany looked into Santana’s very dark eyes, making sure. Then she leaned impossible closer and kissed Santana almost reverently. “Don’t worry, Santana, I’ll take care of you,” she muttered. “It’s too bad we have to hurry a little … and we should try to be quiet.”

Santana chuckled. “ _God_ , Britt … it’s not going to take me long if you’d only touch me, but I _can’t_ promise quiet.” She growled. “Just _touch_ … ah …” She gasped as Brittany suddenly pushed two fingers into her as deep as she could, given the restrictions of the clothes they were still wearing. 

“Yes, Britt, right there,” Santana panted, her hips pressing forward into Brittany’s hand while her shoulder blades leaned heavily against the door. The stall door creaked ominously. “Harder!”

Brittany stopped, her finger just inside Santana. “I thought _I_ was telling _you_ what to do, Santana,” she whispered. “That sounded almost like you were trying to tell me what to do. Were you?”

Santana shook her head. “No, no … you just said … we needed to be quick … and I need …”

“I know what you need, Santana,” Brittany interrupted gently but with a hint of steel in her voice. “Trust me.”

Santana waited a beat. “I trust you.”

“I love you,” Brittany said slowly, emphasizing each word with a long, slow push into Santana. “And I’ll tell you when to come.” Santana whimpered, a sound that surprised them both _._

 _I think we need to do something like this again,_ Brittany thought. _And I better make it good if I want to have another chance at this._ She put her whole body behind her hand as she moved slowly but deeply in and out of Santana. 

Santana was lost to everything around her. All she knew was Brittany and the door she was pushed up against. She raised her legs and wrapped them around Brittany hips, wanting to open herself up as much as she could, trusting Brittany to hold her up.

Brittany grunted when Santana’s whole weight suddenly rested on her and the door, but she just spread her legs a little more and pushed the lithe body more firmly against the door. “That’s right, baby,” she whispered. “Spread your legs for me.” 

Brittany knew she didn’t have much longer, not in this position and not with their entire show choir waiting for them to return. Sooner or later one of them would show up in here looking for them. She began to twist her finger on every upward stroke and curl them on every downward stroke, making Santana moan almost continuously.

Santana was getting close, but she knew she needed more. “Britt … I need …” She was shocked when Brittany stopped again and then removed her fingers completely. “Nooooo … what … please …”

Brittany pushed in with three fingers, now going as hard and fast as she could. “I _told_ you I’d take care of you,” she ground out between each push. “I know what you need.”

Santana nodded frantically, just happy that Brittany hadn’t really stopped. Her brain was close to short-circuiting by now, and she started mumbling in Spanish between heavy pants and loud groans.

“Santana,” Brittany whispered before biting a nearby earlobe and then sucking on the bite mark. “Come for me. Now.” With that she pushed in hard and simultaneously pressed her thumb against Santana’s clit.

“Fuck.” Santana felt her toes curl and electric currents run through her body. Brittany’s command made her almost laugh in relief but what came out of her mouth instead was a primal groan that she could barely muffle in time by biting Brittany’s shoulder. Hard. Then she slumped against the door, her head making a dull thud.

“Sorry,” Santana mumbled after a few deep breaths. “Did I hurt your shoulder?”

Brittany tried to shift Santana’s weight. “Nah, it’s all good … needed to keep quiet somehow, huh?”

Santana smiled gently at the hint of smugness and wiped some sweaty hair off Brittany’s forehead. “Not by hurting you, I don’t,” she whispered. “Put me down, Britt, before you let me fall down … I seem to have some trouble moving my legs.”

Brittany huffed. “I can hold you up, don’t worry. I’d never let you fall.”

Santana decided to ignore the trembling in her girlfriend’s arms. “I know.” She smiled. “I just want to see if my legs are actually still working after this.”

Brittany gave her a knowing smile but gently put Santana on her feet. “Still working, babe. See?”

“It’s a miracle, Britt,” Santana said with a small laugh. “Because what you just did to me completely swept me off my feet.”

Brittany looked charmingly shy. “Really?”

“Really.”

Somewhere behind them the door to the bathroom banged open. “You in here, Satan?” Mercedes’ voice was unmistakable. “I hope you’re not getting your freak on in here!”

“I’ll be right there, Wheezy,” Santana called back, surprised at how even her voice sounded.

“You better be. Ms. Corcoran says break’s long over. And bring Brittany, too.” With that the door slammed shut again.

“We better get back,” Brittany said. “I was only supposed to come and get you.” She blushed a little.

Santana sighed. “But we’re not done here. I didn’t get to--”

“You can make me scream later,” Brittany assured her as she moved to open the door. “Well, you can _try_ …” 

**************

After another hour the Troubletones had managed to run through all three numbers for Sectionals without any major problems. Brittany had been leading the other girls through all three choreographies with quiet determination, while Shelby Corcoran watched her work from her director’s table in the audience. 

Shelby saw that Santana had the dances down pat, so she called her over to join her before telling the others to go through the most difficult steps one more time under Brittany’s guidance.

“Anything I can do for you, Ms. Corcoran?” Santana asked as she sat down next to their director.

Shelby ignored the question. “What do you see when you watch Brittany doing what she does today?”

Santana was a little taken aback, especially as her brain and body flashed back to their little bathroom break. “Isn’t that question a little … personal?”

Shelby chuckled. “I didn’t mean it that way, Santana,” she said, her eyes never leaving Brittany. “I mean, when you see her working like this, what do you _see_?”

Santana let her eyes linger on Brittany for long moments, thinking about the question. “I see … strength and love. Brittany is doing something she loves and she’s really, really good at it. She’s always been better at things than people would have her believe. Everyone always underestimates her because she sometimes uses different words for things than other people do, but that’s not because she’s stupid. She’s just … Brittany.”

Shelby heard the love in Santana’s voice. “You love her very much, don’t you?” She looked at Santana for the first time. At the look on Santana’s face, she grinned. “Okay, _that_ was too personal, I apologize. It’s just hard to miss, you know.”

Santana smiled. “I know,” she said. “It’s okay. Sometimes I wonder how everyone including me could miss it for so long.” She paused. “What do you see when you watch Brittany like you have all afternoon?”

“So you noticed that, huh?”

Santana just nodded.

Shelby watched the stage again. “I see something incredibly rare. I see someone with a true gift.” She turned back to the girl next to her. “Do you have any plans for your future yet, Santana? Colleges?”

Santana’s head cocked to the side. She hadn’t expected this turn in the conversation, _hell, she hadn’t expected this conversation at all_ , but she wasn’t stupid. “You think Brittany should be a dancer,” she stated.

Shelby surprised her again by shaking her head. “No, Santana, Brittany has a much rarer gift than dancing. Dancers and singers are a dime a dozen. Brittany is a born choreographer.”

“And you’re asking about _my_ future because …?”

“Because I want to know if you two have talked about what you want to do,” Shelby replied. “I want to know if you had given any thought of going to New York.”

“Are you saying that you think Brittany should go to New York?”

Shelby nodded. “This girl needs to be on Broadway. Look at her.”

 _I hardly do anything else these days_ , Santana thought. She didn’t know what else say. She and Brittany hadn’t made any plans yet, at least none they had talked about. That, however, didn’t mean that she hadn’t taken some steps towards her future. She just hadn’t mentioned them to Brittany. Yet.

“Brittany and I … we haven’t talked about the future yet,” Santana finally said. “There was so much going on … we never got around to it. I don’t even know what she wants to do,” she admitted quietly.

“Do you know what you want to do?”

Santana shook her head. “My dad wants me to go to med school, my mom wants me to go to law school, Brittany wants me to sing, I think.” She shook her head again. “I have no idea what _I_ want.”

Shelby studied Santana for a few seconds. “I don’t know you all that well, but I’d like to say something to you and I hope you don’t get too mad.”

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t know if you would make a good doctor or a great lawyer … although I can see the lawyer a lot easier than the doctor, I have to say,” Shelby stated with a small grin. “But just in case Brittany was thinking of you in terms of Broadway … I don’t see that. And not because I don’t think you have the talent. Frankly, you definitely have the talent, your performance as Anita proved that. It’s just that … you can hardly stand to be around Rachel, right?”

Santana nodded, wondering where this was all going.

“The singers trying to make it in musical theater are all like that, and most of them are worse. They have to be … Broadway is a backstabber’s paradise, so you grab what you can when you can.”

“Do you think I couldn’t deal with the pressure?” Santana challenged.

“No, I think you’d kill one of those wannabe divas within the first week of a production and Brittany would have to hope they have conjugal visits for same-sex couples in prison, to be honest. And I’m not sure orange is your color either.”

Santana laughed out loud. She should be insulted probably, but surprisingly, she wasn’t. “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m not interested in being on Broadway, isn’t it?” 

“I didn’t think you were,” Shelby agreed with a smile. “Actually, I think you’d be much better suited to something like jazz. You definitely have the voice for it.”

Santana chuckled. “Funny you should say that, Ms. Corcoran.”

“Why’s that?”

“To answer your earlier question: I have applied to a number of schools all over the country, and a few of them are in New York.” She hesitated. “I applied to Tisch … because they have a jazz program that sounds great.”

Shelby looked impressed. “That’s a hard school to get into, Santana.”

“I know.” Santana nodded. “And it’s okay if I don’t get in. I figured if I don’t get in there, I might have more success with my applications to any of the other schools.” She shrugged. She had a weird feeling in her gut. She knew deep down she should have talked to Brittany about their future, and she had tried a few times, but something else had always come up. _Would Brittany understand?_

“What other schools are on your list, if I may ask?” Shelby was really curious by now. Her talk with Santana had proven easier and much more interesting than she had expected. There was something about this young woman that greatly impressed her.

Santana grinned. “Well, all the good ones,” she said. “I figured if I apply to basically everywhere, I’m bound to get into some of them, and then we could pick where Brittany might want to go.” _Brittany would have to understand, right? She still held all the cards, no matter what._

Shelby looked at her in surprise. “Are you saying that you’ll choose your college on the basis of where Brittany wants to be?”

“Yes,” Santana replied simply. “It doesn’t matter much to me where we live, as long as it’s far away from Lima. I don’t need a specific college or city to be happy.” She left the rest unsaid. _I need Brittany._

“And you applied to other New York schools apart from--”

“NYU, Columbia, you name it, I’ve applied. All of them … except for NYADA, really.” Santana laughed quietly. “Word is that’s the school Rachel wants to go to and I don’t want to be anywhere near that. No offense,” she added.

“None taken.” Shelby watched as the girls on the stage gathered their belongings. “I think Brittany has ended the rehearsal … she must be satisfied.”

“I’ll go then.” Santana stood, the worry in her guts getting worse. “It was … nice talking to you, Ms. Corcoran.”

Shelby stopped her. “I think the two of you should talk about your future soon. I doubt Brittany doesn’t have any plans. And please keep in mind what I said: she should be on Broadway.” She paused. “I’ll talk to her about it as well. I know some people who could get her a head start.”

Santana hesitated. “Maybe you should do that now, if you have the time,” she finally said. _This is your fight or flight response talking and flight just won._ “I have to make a phone call anyway, so I could give you some time to talk.” 

“Oookay,” Shelby drawled, giving her a strange look. “I have a few minutes.”

“I’ll send her up then,” Santana said and turned on her heels to walk towards Brittany. She needed to get out of here, for a few minutes anyway.

“Hey, Santana,” Brittany greeted her with a wide grin. “Wanna go home now?” She waggled her eyebrows.

Santana grinned despite the worry gnawing at her guts. “I’d love to,” she said, “but Ms. Corcoran wants to talk to you. I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?” She walked away quickly.

“Sure,” Brittany called after her, wondering what was wrong. Then she walked over to Shelby. “You wanted to talk to me, Ms. Corcoran?”

********************

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Q, how’s it going with the Lady Hobbit?” Santana adjusted her back against the locker as she listened to Quinn’s outburst over Santana’s name-calling. “Calm yo tits, Q.”

“What do you want?” Quinn snarled, apparently still angry.

“First of all, calm down,” Santana said. “You know I don’t mean anything by the names and I’m sure Berry would be really confused if I actually used her real name.”

Quinn laughed. “Actually, that might be true. She looked at me funny the first time I did it, like she was waiting for the big blow to come.” She took a breath. “Okay, okay, good now … so what’s going on?”

Santana sighed. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Yeah, I’m free.”

“I need to talk to someone … someone that’s not Brittany.” Santana waited for the inevitable question.

“What did you do, Santana?” And there it was. 

“Nothing too bad, I think, but I still need a second opinion, okay? Can you listen and not freak out at me like you do when--”

“When you do something stupid and hurt Britt?” Quinn asked knowingly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try. Shoot.” Santana heard rustling over the line and assumed Quinn was getting comfortable.

Santana shared the details of her conversation with Shelby Corcoran with Quinn and the more she talked the better she felt. Quinn only interrupted her with a couple of questions, but surprisingly none of them were judgmental or angry. “So, what do you think?” Santana finished. “Did I fuck up?”

Quinn was quiet. “No, I don’t think so,” she finally said and Santana let out a breath. “Santana, really … if you think about it, it might even be considered romantic. You applying to all those schools, but leaving the final choice up to Brittany?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Santana could hear Quinn laughing. “It’s also stupid, but hey …”

“Why is it stupid?”

“What if you break up?”

“We’re not going to break up, Q,” Santana stated. “Not if I have anything to say about it. She’s it, Quinn.”

Quinn sighed. “I know, Santana. You’re one of those high school couples that are actually going to grow old together.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” Quinn assured her. “And so do you … otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to marry her, right?”

“What? Q, we’re not …” Santana stopped when she heard Quinn’s laughter over the phone. “Quinn, dammit!”

Quinn stopped laughing. “You can call that ring whatever you want, Santana,” she said, still chuckling a little, “but I know promise rings, and this is much more. I promise I won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Santana growled. “Okay,” she sighed. “Not even Rachel, you hear me?”

“Not even Rachel, I hear you,” Quinn promised with a sigh.

“How’s that going then, Q? Have you talked to her yet?”

Santana could practically hear Quinn shaking her head over the phone. “No, I haven’t.” Quinn’s voice had lost all its humor. “I drove by her house after our coffee date but nobody was home.”

“Why don’t you call her?”

“Because I don’t want to talk about this over the phone, S. I need to see her face, need to see her reaction.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Santana replied, her brain working on a solution. “Hey, why don’t you text her and invite her to brunch at that nice place on Main tomorrow morning? We could all go if you need back-up …”

“Really?” Quinn sounded hopeful. “That’s not a bad idea. We could have brunch and--”

“And I’ll be nice and then Britt and I will find someplace else to be as soon as possible and you can talk to her then.” Santana was hoping it would be that easy for her friend.

“Okay, I’ll text her and see if she wants to come. I’ll make reservations in any case, okay? Then the three of us can go and you can tell me all about your college plans … and I’ll tell you about mine.”

“Sounds good,” Santana agreed. “Let’s hope Brittany is still speaking to me by tomorrow.”

“Santana,” Quinn said sternly, “it’s really not that bad.”

“Ya think?”

“I know.”

“’kay,” Santana mumbled. “Text me about tomorrow.”

“Will do. Bye.”

*******************

Santana walked back into the auditorium just as Brittany was on her way out. “Hey, Britt.” She smiled because she couldn’t help herself.

Brittany all but jumped into Santana’s arms. “Hey, Santana.”

Santana had difficulty adjusting her stance and almost fell over. “I’m happy to see you, too, Britt,” she finally managed to get out when her back hit a wall behind her and gave her some stability.

Brittany uncurled herself from Santana’s body. “Where did you go?”

“I talked to Quinn,” Santana said. “Wanted to hear what’s going on with her Berry-hunting mission.”

“Aww, that’s so nice of you.” Brittany grabbed Santana’s hand and began to drag her along the hallway towards the exit. “And?”

“And if Berry agrees we’re all going to have brunch together tomorrow,” Santana replied.

“And that’s not so nice,” Brittany said with a grin, showing Santana she didn’t really mean it. “It’s fine, honey,” she added. “I want Quinn to be happy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Santana agreed. “So, how did your talk with Ms. Corcoran go?” She was glad her voice didn’t betray her nervousness at the question.

“I think you know what she wanted to talk to me about,” Brittany said. At Santana’s nod, she continued. “It was good, really good. She gave me a lot of things to think about.” She stopped and looked at Santana. “Can we talk tonight, San? About what we want to do after graduation?”

Santana released the breath she had been holding for what felt like forever. “Sure, Britt, whatever you want.”

Brittany grinned cheekily. “You, San … right now, I want _you_.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

“Do you think Rachel is going to be there?” Brittany looked up for a moment from fiddling with the car stereo. They were on their way to meet Quinn and possibly Rachel for brunch and while Brittany could have lived without spending her Sunday morning with Rachel, she wanted Quinn to be happy. Plus, she’d had a really great evening and night with Santana, so she was feeling … generous.

“No idea,” Santana replied. “Can you imagine what it might take for her to actually come?”

“What do you mean?”

“Britt, we’ve been making her life pretty damn miserable for a few years and now she’s supposed to hang out with us?” Santana glanced over at her girlfriend. “I would be just a little suspicious … add to that the fact that she kissed Quinn … it’s gotta be a little difficult.”

“Huh,” Brittany grunted, “I guess that means I have to be nice to her.” She scrunched her face as if she’d tasted something horrible. Then she sighed. “Okay, I think I can do that. As long as she doesn’t say bad things about you, that is. Did Quinn say anything else?”

Santana shook her head. “All Quinn texted was ‘Menotti’s 11am’,” she mumbled, slightly distracted by Brittany’s hand that was still fiddling with the stereo buttons. “Do you really like it?” she asked hesitantly.

Brittany followed Santana’s line of sight and grinned. “I. Love. It.” Her voice was patient, although they’d had the same conversation about 50 times in the past 12 hours. For some reason Santana was insecure about her prowess with power tools, even though Brittany had never seen anything hotter and had demonstrated that to Santana in their room later on. 

Santana grinned as her mind wandered back to last night as well. “Last night was … amazing, Britt,” she whispered, her voice holding just a tinge of awe. “All of it, every second of it.” She reached over to hold Brittany’s hand.

“It was,” Brittany agreed readily. “We are absolutely awesome together, you know?”

“I know,” Santana said as she parked the car in the small lot next to Menotti’s. “At least we can be if I keep my head out of my ass and stop doing stupid things,” she added with a self-deprecating smirk.

“True, that’s always helpful.” Brittany turned in her seat and fully faced Santana. They had a few moments before they needed to head inside. “But I know you love me and you don’t really do these stupid things to hurt me. I just think we need to learn to communicate a bit better.”

Santana nodded. They had spent most of their evening in the Pierce’s workshop with Brittany gently guiding Santana through the process of making a ring from a coin. And they had talked for hours, mostly about their future and their plans, while working on that symbol of their connection … or that at least was how Brittany had described her thoughts to Santana afterwards. 

“You have no idea how happy you make me,” Santana said, her eyes finding Brittany’s. “Thank you for being so patient with me last night … and for understanding … and …”

“And for the amazingly hot sex?”

Santana burst out laughing. “I was trying to have a serious moment here, Britt,” she said between giggles. “But yeah, that too.”

“Best night ever,” Brittany said with a grin. “Everything about it.” She grinned cheekily. “Sorry for ruining your serious moment, by the way.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Ready to go?”

“You think they have banana-stuffed French toast?”

////////

They were still a few minutes early when they walked into the restaurant, but Quinn was already there and waving them over to a table by a large window. 

“Morning, Q,” Santana drawled slowly, taking in her friend’s appearance.

“Oh, you look very nice, Quinn.” Brittany leaned over and gave Quinn a one-armed hug while messing up her hair with her free hand.

“Hey!” Quinn protested and tried to pat down her hair. She scowled at Brittany.

Santana laughed as she pulled out a chair for her girlfriend. “Don’t worry, Q, you still look your best. Brittany just made you look a little … hotter.”

“Do I really look okay?” The sudden vulnerability in Quinn’s tone was hard to bear for Santana. “I want to look … okay.”

Santana leaned forward in her chair and looked straight into Quinn’s eyes. “You look great, Quinn, really good. You always do, you know that. Well, except for when you decided to give up soap and clean clothes and dye your hair pink …” She winked at Quinn, who stuck out her tongue at her friend.

“Don’t worry, Quinn,” Brittany added. She reached across the table and put her hand on Quinn’s arm. “You’re wonderful and worth it and you look great. She’s going to love you.”

Quinn mumbled something that sounded like “I hope so” before focusing a shrewd gaze on Brittany’s hand. “So you have one now, too?”

Santana and Brittany looked at Brittany’s ring. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Britt practically gushed. “Santana made it for me last night.”

“Santana made that?” Quinn’s eyes wandered over to Santana’s face, which was beginning to look a shade darker as she blushed. 

“Santana did,” Santana replied simply. She shrugged, trying to deflect from the enormity of it all, but Quinn had always been a bit of a bloodhound.

Quinn looked back at Brittany. “So, does that mean you’re officially engaged now?” Her voice was teasing but the look on her face was one of genuine interest.

Brittany looked at Santana who shrugged. Quinn was their friend and Brittany could never keep a secret anyway.

“We’re not really engaged,” Brittany said quietly and to Santana’s surprise. “Except we sort of are,” she added with an enormous grin.

“I think you’ll have to explain that, B.” Quinn looked between her two friends.

“You really want to know the whole story?” Santana asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.” Santana looked around the restaurant and when she was sure that nobody was watching them or listening to them, she took Brittany’s hand. “Long story short: Britt asked me to marry her yesterday, but I told her that we were way too young for something like that, so for now we’re calling it a promise.”

Quinn watched Brittany’s face during Santana’s short explanation. “You don’t think you’re too young, do you?” she asked quietly.

Brittany shook her head. “I’ve wanted to marry Santana since I was five. I think I’ve been remarkably patient.”

Quinn grinned. “For what it’s worth, I agree with both of you.”

“How is that even possible?” Santana asked.

“I agree with you that you’re too young to make it official and to get married, but mostly because of what people would say, really. And I agree with Brittany because I know that the two of you _will_ get married, and probably sooner rather than later, and she has shown _a lot_ of patience where you are concerned. I also know that it doesn’t really matter _when_ you get married because … it’s inevitable. It’s like a law of nature or something.”

Santana gaped at her, speechless for the moment, while Brittany beamed her brightest smile at Quinn. “That was so nice, Q.”

Santana found her voice. “Was that your audition speech for the role of bridesmaid or best woman or something?”

Quinn laughed. “It was worth a try, wasn’t it?” She and Santana laughed. “Seriously though, you two should do whatever feels right to _you_ because if I know one thing it’s that you belong together.”

“Thank you, Quinn,” Brittany and Santana said together, as if to prove Quinn’s point.

“So, any idea if Rachel is going to show up?” Santana asked, hoping to change the subject.

“She is,” a voice answered from next to their table.

“Hey, Rachel,” Brittany greeted the newcomer with a wide grin. “Come, sit down.”

/////////

Brunch at Menotti’s was buffet style, a fact that made Santana extraordinarily happy at the moment. Not because of the food, although that was as heavenly as it could be, but because it allowed her to escape from the weird atmosphere at their table every so often. Right now she surveyed the fruit choices and wondered if anyone would find it strange if she just took a strawberry, walked back to the table, ate the strawberry and came back over to the buffet for another one. 

With a sigh she picked a few strawberries, knowing that Brittany would eat most of them anyway, and added two slices of melon for good measure. She was just about to head back to the table when she felt her girlfriend close behind her.

“Hey,” she muttered with a smile.

“They’re being strange,” Brittany said with a nod in the direction of their table. “Can we go soon?”

Santana laughed. “I wish … but I promised Quinn we’d help her through this date.”

“If this is a date, it’s the weirdest one I’ve ever had the displeasure of witnessing,” Brittany remarked dryly. “And they don’t even have banana-stuffed French toast here.” 

Santana couldn’t stand the pout that settled on Brittany’s lips. “Here, could you take this plate back to the table? I’ll be right back.”

Brittany gazed at her suspiciously, but took the plate and walked back. Santana looked around the busy restaurant, chose her target and headed straight for a guy in white.

When she made it back to the table five minutes later, Quinn was staring out the window, Rachel was looking at her fruit salad, and Brittany was playing with the last strawberry on Santana’s plate.

She sat down, wincing a little at how unhappy Brittany looked and how miserable both Rachel and Quinn seemed to be. She was cursing herself for ever coming up with this idea, but figured now that they were here, they’d better make sure they hadn’t totally wasted their morning. Besides, they couldn’t leave yet.

“So, Rachel,” she addressed the girl sitting across from her, who promptly dropped her fork with a clang. “Oops, sorry, did I rip you from some deep thoughts?” 

Rachel blushed. “Actually, yes … and I guess I’m not used to hearing my actual name coming from you.”

Santana shot Quinn a pointed look and a smirk. “Told you that would happen.” Then she turned back to Rachel. “Would it make you less uncomfortable if I called you Berry?”

Rachel seemed to think about that. “Maybe,” she replied after a few moments. “I don’t know, but …” She trailed off.

Quinn looked at her, something like panic in her eyes. “What is it? Are you unhappy that you’re here?”

Santana watched in fascination as Rachel and Quinn stared at each other until Brittany viciously stabbed a piece of melon on Santana’s plate, effectively disturbing the already quite disturbing moment.

“No, no, not unhappy, no,” Rachel mumbled.

“Oh,” Quinn sighed.

Santana rolled her eyes. It was either that or laughing out loud at the sad, sorry display in front of her. “You have got to be kidding me,” she said finally when she realized that Quinn would just go back to being silent.

Both Quinn and Rachel looked up at her at that, Rachel looking curious and Quinn looking strangely scared. Brittany nudged her arm slightly and gave her a nod. _Okay, now I better say something._

She took a deep breath and prayed this was the right thing to do. She addressed Rachel first. “Listen, this is how it’s going to go down. You better get used to hearing your name from me, if you want to hang out with us because Quinn there doesn’t like it when I call you anything else.”

At Rachel’s startled look, Santana snorted. “Yeah, go figure,” she said. “It’s true though. And the reason we’re all here today is not actually the great food or the fun that we’re all having staring at our own plate in deafening silence—”

“Santana,” Quinn hissed loudly, but Santana ignored her.

“The reason we’re here is that my friend Quinn over there—”

“Santana!” This time Quinn’s voice was a lot louder and more determined.

“Yes, Quinn?” Santana asked sweetly. “Was there something you wanted to add to our conversation?” Quinn looked at her with murder in her eyes and Santana really hoped she was doing the right thing.

Quinn’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally, it looked like Rachel had enough. “Was there a reason you invited me here this morning, Quinn?” she asked gently.

Santana was about to reply for Quinn when a hand on her arm and Brittany’s subtle shake of her head stopped her.

Quinn scrunched her eyes together. “Well, yes … actually … I thought …”

Santana groaned. “Use your words, Quinn. Or I will.”

They were interrupted by a waiter, who put a plate in front of Brittany. “Banana-stuffed French toast for you, ma’am,” he said politely and left.

“Santana, how?” Brittany looked between the plate and her girlfriend’s face.

“You wanted your French toast thingy, so I asked them to make it for you,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. _Threatened, bribed and begged actually, but whatever._

“That is so sweet of you, Santana,” Brittany said with a huge smile. She knew what it cost her girlfriend to be mushy in front of other people. 

“That really was incredibly sweet, Santana,” Rachel said with a smile while Quinn pretended to cough, hoping that nobody would hear her murmured “whipped, so whipped” under her breath. Everyone heard her loud and clear.

“And I think it probably involved a lot more than asking,” Rachel added with a knowing smile. “My dads and I came here a few weeks ago and we were told specifically that they don’t _do_ special requests on brunch Sundays.”

“I’m hard to say no to,” Santana quipped.

“Apparently.” With that Rachel turned back to Quinn. “You were about to tell me why I’m here.”

Santana watched as Quinn took a huge breath before she turned her body fully towards Rachel. “Ilikeyoualot,” she rushed out in one breath.

Rachel’s eyes widened. “You like me? Did I hear that right?”

Quinn nodded. “I like you.” It seemed easier the second time around and Santana could fully appreciate that fact. It was easier once you were past the hurdle the first time. _Come on, Quinn, bring it home._

“The thing is … I think I might be gay, Rachel,” Quinn continued, “and ever since we kissed at the party Friday night, I can’t stop thinking about it. But I have no idea what you’re thinking … or if you were just drunk when you kissed me … and I’m scared … which is why Santana and Brittany are here, I guess.”

Rachel’s eyes never left Quinn’s face as she listened to Quinn’s ramble. “You’re afraid of me?”

“No … yes … no … I don’t know,” Quinn stuttered. “I guess I’m afraid of putting my heart on the line and have you laugh at me.”

“Do you really think I’m so petty?” Rachel sounded hurt.

“Rachel,” Brittany said around a forkful of French toast, “I think she’s scared because it’s something that we would do. Sometimes it’s hard to look past that.” With that she went back to chewing and making appreciative noises that had Santana squirming in her seat.

“Okay, I can understand that,” Rachel said. “But I’m not that kind of person.”

“I know,” Quinn said and Santana could read the hope in her eyes. _Did I ever look that pathetic around Britt?_ She had a feeling that she had.

“Quinn,” Rachel waited until Quinn was looking at her, “I like you, too. And you’re a really great kisser.” Quinn blushed three shades of red. “I really enjoyed kissing you, but I just broke up with Finn … and I don’t really know what I want right now, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Rachel,” Quinn whispered, and Santana’s heart broke for her. “I had to try, you know?”

“Quinn, I’m not saying that there’s nothing there.” Rachel’s voice was gentle, coaxing. “All I’m saying is that I liked kissing you and that I don’t know what I want _right now_.” She smiled gently. “That doesn’t mean that don’t want to spend time with you to find out what I want … and if I maybe like kissing you when I’m sober.” She winked at Quinn.

“You want to spend time with me?” Quinn asked, just to make sure she heard right.

Rachel nodded.

“And you want to kiss me?”

“If that’s okay with you, yes.”

Quinn nodded a few times. “That’s very okay with me, Rachel.” She took Rachel’s hand and gripped tightly. “Very, very okay.”

Santana grinned broadly. “Now that we kicked that elephant successfully out of the room, can we finally start enjoying our brunch?”

That broke the last of the tension and all four of them laughed. 

“So, Santana,” Rachel said after the laughter had died down. “What _did_ you have to do to get Brittany that French toast and was it worth it?”

Brittany groaned as she pierced the last piece with her fork. “So worth it, whatever she had to do,” she practically groaned. “Total foodgasm, guys.” She took the last piece and gave a low moan and rolled her eyes. Santana felt her whole body tighten at the sight and sound. _So worth it._ She swallowed, the sound harsh in her own ears. She couldn’t believe that watching Brittany eat could have her this aroused in no time flat. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, unaware of the knowing glance Quinn gave her.

“Yeah, I’d say it was worth it,” Quinn said with a small laugh. “Just look at her.”

“At whom? Brittany or Santana?” Rachel apparently had gotten a little more confident in the last few minutes.

“Both of them.” Quinn laughed, unfazed by the evil look Santana gave her. “Give up, Santana, everybody knows you’re whipped.”

“Looks good on you, too,” Rachel added.

Santana glared at them both, but Brittany just mumbled, “I have to say I agree with both of them.”

“Traitor,” Santana murmured, not really mad. These were friends, after all. Well, friends and Rachel … “No more special breakfasts for you.”

“I’m stuffed anyway,” Brittany replied, not bothered in the slightest. She leaned closer to Santana. “Thank you, honey, that was wonderful.”

“You’re welcome,” Santana mumbled. 

“We still haven’t heard how you got them to make that for Britt,” Quinn reminded everyone. “Did you bat your eyelashes?”

Santana grinned. “Nah, I just went a little Lima Heights on them and threatened to come back with my gang tonight.”

Both Quinn and Brittany laughed at that, but Rachel looked confused. “You actually threatened them? You have a gang?”

“Yeah,” Santana replied dryly. “What did you expect, Rachel? You know me.” There was an edge to her tone that had Brittany’s protective instincts up in an instant, and even Quinn looked like she might have picked up on it.

Rachel was unaware, however. “Well, I think that it’s very bad form to threaten people at their workplace just because Brittany wanted something else for breakfast. Santana, you can’t go around doing that … you have to overcome your background and be a better person.”

Brittany watched the emotions chase each other across Santana’s face. She had forgotten that Rachel really knew nothing about Santana but always assumed the worst. She put her hand on Santana’s thigh and felt how tense she was. “Rachel, stop,” Brittany said when she couldn’t bear the new tension any longer.

“What?” Rachel asked. “I’m only saying--”

Quinn interrupted her. “Really, Rachel, you need to stop now.”

“Just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean--”

“Rachel, stop,” Quinn said again, a little louder this time. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so please stop.”

“I know you think you know everything about everyone, Berry, but in reality you really don’t know the first thing about most of us.” Santana’s voice was controlled. She was really trying to hold back the anger she felt at Rachel’s assumptions, partly because she had promised Quinn to be nice and partly because she knew deep down that the assumptions were her fault.

“Sometimes you think something about a person and that makes you really, really blind to who that person really is,” Brittany said into the silence. Her hand was rubbing small circles on Santana’s thigh. “Do you even realize how you usually treat Santana? Have you ever stopped to wonder that there might be a reason we don’t … didn’t like you?”

“Well, you’ve obviously always been jealous of my talent and drive—”

Brittany and Santana snorted derisively. “Yeah, that’s totally it,” Santana hissed.

“Santana,” Quinn warned quietly. “You promised.”

“I did,” Santana answered calmly. “That’s why I’m still sitting here and not outside in my car.” She pointed towards the lot that was clearly visible from the table. “Tell me, Rachel, which of these cars do you think is mine?”

Rachel looked like a deer in the headlights. She clearly didn’t want to say anything wrong. “Um, I don’t know …” She looked at Quinn for help.

“Santana, do you really think this is a good idea?” Quinn asked.

“I don’t know, Quinn.” Santana sounded weary. “I’m just curious what your girlfriend there thinks. Don’t you want to know?”

Quinn looked very unsure, but didn’t say anything else. 

“Guess, Rachel,” Santana said again. “There aren’t that many cars out there. Which one of the eight cars out there do you think is mine?”

Rachel’s eyes wandered over the parking lot. There was a wide range of cars ranging from a beat-down Ford pick-up truck to a nice-sized, relatively new Lexus SUV. Santana watched Rachel closely, not really feeling all that bad about this impromptu interrogation and test. She had been deeply insulted that Rachel thought she would actually threaten restaurant staff. She could tell that Rachel was a little insecure now as she followed her eyes wander over the cars. She saw the moment Rachel dismissed the pick-up truck, probably as too poor or too manly or something like that, and the moment she didn’t even give the Lexus a second glance. _Too expensive, huh?_

Finally Rachel’s eyes seemed to settle on a non-descript Japanese car that looked well used but respectable. The kind of car Finn might drive, Santana thought. “That one maybe?”

Even Quinn snorted now but she sent Rachel an apologetic look right after. “Nope, sorry,” she said. “Santana wouldn’t touch that car.”

“Why did you think that might be it?” Brittany asked, her voice simply curious, not critical.

Rachel just shrugged and Santana could tell that she was beginning to feel really uncomfortable. And while one part of her enjoyed that immensely, that was not the point of their little outing this morning. “She picked that one because it was the safest choice,” Santana explained to Brittany and Quinn. “I think we made it clear that the rust buckets would have been insulting to me and she’s a little scared of me, and she didn’t want to go top of the line because that doesn’t compute with her view of me.” She shrugged and snagged a piece of melon from her plate. “Correct?”

Rachel nodded reluctantly. 

“Okay, let’s stop this,” Santana continued. “It was fun while it lasted but it’s pointless.” She looked at Rachel. “Stick around Quinn and you’ll learn some things, about me and Britt and maybe about other people. And maybe, just maybe you’ll learn not to judge people on the basis of your preconceptions.”

Rachel looked like she wanted to say something but then changed her mind. 

“What?” Santana asked, rolling her eyes.

“Just … okay, I get that you feel I insulted you somehow, but I really don’t understand how.” Rachel sounded bewildered. “I mean you always run around telling people you’re from Lima Heights and alluding to a poor, terrible background. Why are you insulted when I think that’s true?”

“I know what I’ve said and done, Rachel,” Santana said quietly. “But you’ve known me … us … for three years now, and you still judge us on our reputation and what people say. Me included, I know.”

Rachel looked thoughtful. “So you’re saying that all three of you are not the people you let everyone think you are? And that I should forget everything about you and learn what I need to know from the source, so to speak?”

Santana nodded. “I’m impressed. There’s hope for you yet, Rachel.” She grinned. “I’m sorry if I scared you just now, but you really press my buttons sometimes.”

“Oh no,” Brittany exclaimed. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to press your buttons, babe.”

Santana burst out laughing. “So true, Britt. Okay, I promise you’re the only one with access to those particular buttons.”

Quinn cleared her throat. “I’m not sure we need to hear about your buttons over brunch and coffee, Santana.” 

Rachel giggled. “So, are you going to tell me which car is yours or do I have to wait until we leave to find out?”

Santana figured there was no point in making her wait as she was going to see the car later anyway. She simply pointed towards her car, enjoying the slack-jawed look on Rachel’s face. Rachel looked to Quinn for confirmation and both Quinn and Brittany nodded.

“You drive a Lexus?” Rachel’s eyes were wide again.

Santana shrugged. “And it’s a hybrid, too,” Brittany said with a smile and Santana could see the exact moment when Rachel was wondering what she had gotten herself into.

“But … Lima Heights … or Lima Heights Adjacent or whatever?” Rachel squeaked.

Quinn laughed gently. “Rachel, I doubt Santana’s ever even been to Lima Heights, Adjacent or proper,” she explained while Brittany and Santana watched. She shot Santana a look, asking for permission, and Santana nodded as she stood.

“I’m going to go grab some more food … you know in case there’s nothing at home later,” Santana said mockingly but with a wink and a grin. “Anyone want anything?” Three heads shook and Santana left.

Rachel focused on Quinn again. “Then why does she …?”

“Threatening to ‘go all Lima Heights’ is a lot more threatening than ‘going all Fairview’ on someone, Rachel,” Quinn continued. 

“Isn’t Fairview where you live?”

“Yep, and Brittany, too,” Quinn said. “But compared to Santana Brittany and I sort of come from the poor part of Fairview. Really,” she added at the disbelieving look on Rachel’s face. 

“Is this the point where I should mention that Santana has a Steinway baby grand at home?” Brittany asked with a big smile.

Rachel still looked stunned when Santana returned to the table.

///////

They talked about less aggravating topics and allowed Rachel to see them in their normal light for the rest of their brunch. The mood got more and more relaxed and by the time they decided to leave, Santana was actually feeling quite bad about how she had treated Rachel.

She let Brittany and Quinn walk ahead towards the parking lot and stopped Rachel with a hand on her arm. “Rachel, I’m sorry about earlier,” she said earnestly. “I shouldn’t have said and done that.”

“It’s okay, Santana,” Rachel said with a small smile. “I can understand how my behavior must have felt for you. It’s probably sort of how I felt for the past few years …”

“Ouch, touché.” Santana felt really bad now. “I guess I’m really sorry for that as well. I know we’re probably never going to be friends, but if you and Quinn start to date we’re going to be spending time together, I guess … and I’d like it to be … less annoying.”

“I’d like that, too,” Rachel admitted. “I think we all have to learn a lot about each other, and I’d like for us to be friends.”

“We’ll see,” Santana said with a smile. She started walking towards Quinn and Brittany. “Look, Quinn is worried that I’m threatening you again.”

Rachel looked up at Quinn, who was wearing a worried expression on her face. Rachel smiled reassuringly and Santana watched as Quinn’s whole body seemed to relax. “Listen Rachel,” Santana said, making sure they were still out of earshot of Quinn and Brittany. “Don’t hurt her. I’m not going to threaten you or anything, but she’s been through a lot and she really, really likes you, so I’m asking you not to hurt her, okay?”

“I won’t, Santana,” Rachel said, her voice serious and determined. “I like her, too, and I want to see where this might be going. She really is an exceptional kisser …”

Santana laughed. “I wouldn’t know, but I’ll take your word for it.”

They joined the other two girls. “What are you going to do now?” Brittany asked Quinn and Rachel.

“Um, not sure,” Quinn replied. “I haven’t made any plans … I was hoping to spend the day with you, getting to know you better, Rachel.”

“I’d like that, Quinn.” Rachel smiled and rocked on her heels a bit. “What about you two? Going home to the fabulous Lopez mansion?”

Santana’s face clouded over and Brittany took her hand. “No,” Brittany said, “we’re going to my house. Santana is living with us at the moment.”

Rachel gasped. “What happened?”

“Finn happened,” Brittany answered for Santana. “When he outed her, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses for Santana.”

“Oh,” Rachel sighed. “Your parents didn’t take it too well? I’m sorry.”

“No, no, my parents are great,” Santana said quickly. “It’s my grandmother … she refuses to be in the same house as me, so I moved in with Brittany until we find a solution.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said. “That must be hard.”

Santana smiled. “Thank you, Rachel, but getting to spend all my time with Brittany and torturing the little Irish guy in the process is really not a hardship.”

“So that’s why Rory is spending so much time at Finn’s house,” Rachel mused.

Brittany and Santana grinned. “Yep.” 

“I’m glad I broke up with Finn,” Rachel said. “He never thinks about the consequences of his actions, and he’s always convinced he’s right. And when things go wrong, it’s never his fault.”

“Believe me, Rachel,” Quinn muttered, “I’m really glad, too.”

Santana watched with a smile as Quinn reached out and nervously took Rachel’s hand. Then Brittany squeezed her hand and began to drag her towards the car. 

Rachel and Quinn hardly even noticed them leaving.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is the end of the ride, folks. It's been a pleasure.
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don't own these characters, but they had a lot more fun with me than they did with their owners ...

Friday, and with it _Sectionals_ , came much faster than Santana had anticipated and she wondered where the week had gone. A lot of the time had been spent on rehearsals and on the phone with Quinn, who was vacillating between elation and depression, depending on Rachel’s moods at any given point in time. It apparently hadn’t helped at all that Rachel was banned from competing in Sectionals. Santana hadn’t envied Quinn at all when she heard about that.

Snipping fingers in front of her face pulled her out of her thoughts with a visible start. Brittany just grinned. “Are you in there somewhere, San?”

Santana chuckled. “Sorry … just thinking.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t do that, it’s dangerous,” Brittany said, her voice completely serious as she grabbed a banana from the bowl in the middle of the breakfast table. Then she stuffed half the banana in her mouth and grinned at Santana, looking like a chipmunk. Santana couldn’t help herself and laughed out loud, shaking her head at her adorably silly girlfriend.

Brittany swallowed and smiled at Santana. “Oh good, you’re laughing,” she stage-whispered. “I was beginning to wonder if someone had come in at night and stolen your laugh.”

Santana stared at her, and so did Brittany’s mother who had come into the kitchen at the tail end of Brittany’s comment. “What do you mean, Britt?”

“Santana’s been way too serious this whole week,” Brittany explained. She turned to Santana. “You’re like totally stressing out about today and I think that’s not necessary. We’re going to win Sectionals because you and Mercedes are awesome and we’re just the best. And if we don’t win, then we don’t.” She shrugged. “Not the end of the world, at least not for us.” She paused. “I’m not so sure about Sugar.”

Santana sighed. “It’s not that … well, not _just_ that,” she amended after a look from Brittany and her mom. “It’s just … you know what mom said.”

“About your grandmother?” Annie Pierce asked. “Yeah, your mom told me.” Annie placed her hand on Santana’s. “Honey, I know this is hard for you, but you have to accept that there’s nothing you can do about the situation. Nothing you can do or say will make her change her mind – that has to come from her.” She grinned. “Now your mom on the other hand … she might have ways to make the old hag see the error of her ways.”

Santana hesitated. “But maybe if I --”

“If you what?” Brittany interrupted her, face upset and voice hurt. “Are you planning on breaking up with me to please your grandmother? Cause that would be the only thing that might get her to change her mind …”

“No, of course not, Britt!” Santana exclaimed. “I love you, you know that,” she murmured, still not entirely comfortable saying these things around any kind of parental figure. She chanced a side-glance at Brittany’s mom who simply smiled a little indulgently. 

Santana wrapped Brittany in her arms. “I’m sorry, Britt,” she whispered. “I’m never going to do that.”

Brittany sighed. “Sometimes I remember how you used to be and then I get scared.”

Santana pressed her lips against Brittany’s hair in reply, not knowing what to say. She hoped her gesture would say it all. She was _never_ leaving Brittany.

///////

McKinley’s two glee clubs had all been excused from regular classes for last-minute rehearsals while the auditorium was being prepped for the evening’s competition. The Troubletones were crowded around the piano in the tiny classroom they had been using when they couldn’t use the auditorium, just running through the songs a few times. Brittany and Ms. Corcoran had agreed that they had the dance moves down as perfectly as they could and that yet _another_ run-through today would probably do more harm than good.

Santana was standing near the door, watching Ms. Corcoran who was standing in the far corner of the room, quite obviously deep in thought. _Hm, wonder what that’s all about?_ She grabbed the water bottle, but still found her eyes drawn to their choir leader. She looked … a little lost and a lot sad, and Santana was beginning to get worried. _They weren’t that bad, were they? No, that couldn’t be it. But what else could be wrong?_

She thought back to the past few days. _No, their practices had all gone well, with her and Mercedes having an iron grip on the singing and Brittany more or less leading the dancing part of their routine. So, something else then. Something,_ she considered for a moment, _that she probably had no business knowing or even speculating about. God, she was getting … too nice in her old age,_ she smirked to herself. 

With a shrug, she ambled over to Ms. Corcoran and leaned against the wall just outside the older woman’s personal space. “Everything all right?” she asked casually.

Mc. Corcoran looked up at her as if she was surprised that there was someone there. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled unconvincingly. “Everything’s fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Santana turned towards Ms. Corcoran. “I know I’m just a student, but since you went all up in my business last week, I figured I’d at least offer to listen. No matter what everyone thinks, I’m actually pretty good at that, and there isn’t much that would shock me.” She thought back to the conversation she had with Quinn. “And you’d be surprised at what I know and don’t talk about … Just sayin’.”

Shelby Corcoran’s face was really interesting when there were lots of emotions chasing each other across its planes and angles, Santana thought. She waited until she could catch the spark of realization in dark eyes, then nodded.

The older woman sighed. “Well, I guess you deserve some warning of what’s to come and maybe you can actually help me out,” she finally said.

“I’m all ears, Ms. C,” Santana said quietly as she settled against the wall. They were relatively alone in their little corner, despite the room being so small. The noise everyone else made singing and joking around the piano effectively shielded their conversation from prying ears. Brittany caught her eyes for a second and Santana tried to convey that she needed some privacy for a bit back here. She assumed she had gotten her point across when Brittany nodded and then started a funky dance number that conveniently led the others from the room and into the hallway. _Atta girl._

Shelby watched her choir dancing away merrily and shot a knowing grin at Santana. “Have you and Brittany always been able to communicate telepathically?” she asked semi-seriously. 

Santana shook her head. “No, that’s a relatively recent development,” she replied with a grin. “We had enough trouble with actual communication for years, so it’s a good change.”

“I agree.” Ms. Corcoran assessed her. “You have changed quite a bit, even in the short time I’ve known you.”

Santana considered that. “Yeah, I guess that’s true … a lot of stuff happened in the past few months and that sort of forced me to stop just bitching around and grow up.” She smiled. “A few months ago we wouldn’t be having this conversation … or at least not without me having some hidden agenda.”

“So no hidden agenda now?”

Santana shook her head. “No, nothing apart from making sure everything is okay … you are kinda a vital part of The Troubletones …”

“Yes, about that …” Shelby began. “Today is almost certainly my last day here.”

“What?!” Santana exclaimed “What’s that supposed to mean? Is it because of that whole Puck thing?”

To Santana’s surprise Shelby chuckled, albeit a bit darkly. “So you _do_ know about that,” she muttered. “Does everyone know?”

“No, just me … Quinn told me and we talked about it,” Santana reassured her. “She’s not going to tell anyone, now that she’s not completely miserable any more.”

Shelby shook her head. “I can’t be sure of that,” she said. “She does have a point, too, because it was wrong and I have no idea how it happened. And it’s never good when someone has something dangling over your head … you should know that better than anyone.”

And Santana _did_ know that. “What are we going to do?” she asked quietly, accepting Ms. Corcoran’s point. “We’re probably going to win tonight … then what? I’m not going back to Mr. Shue.”

“That’s the part where I’d like your help,” Shelby replied. “I have a friend who could take over for me. I’m going to give Mr. Motta some reason for why I need to leave and suggest my friend as a replacement.”

“What do you need me for?”

“Well, my friend is not actually a music teacher and as far as I know she’s never worked with a school choir before,” Shelby admitted. “But she can sing and she’s a great teacher. Brittany can do the choreographies, I know she can. I just need you to make sure that the rest of the girls accept the … new realities. And I’ll be able to help my friend if need be … from a distance.”

“I really don’t think you have to do this … but have you talked to your friend yet?” Santana asked. “Would she even want the job?”

“I was going to do it after practice, invite her to tonight’s competition, so she can see you perform.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Santana said. “If we lose, we won’t need another director anyway … So she’s local?”

“Oh, you’ll need her because I have all the confidence in the world that you’re going to win tonight,” Ms. Corcoran said with a tight smile. “And yeah, Holly’s a substitute teacher and I think she’s even worked here before. I think she mentioned McKinley once or twice.”

Santana stared at her teacher. “Did you say your friend’s name is Holly?”

“Yes,” Ms. Corcoran replied. “Holly Holiday. You know her?”

A grin spread over Santana’s face just as Brittany and the others returned from what appeared to have been a little dance to the cafeteria and back. “Oh yeah, I know her.”

///////////////

The auditorium was steadily filling as more and more people took their seats. Brittany stood in the wings, searching for familiar faces among the crowd. _Ah, there._ Her parents and sister were already in their seats and looking excited, but the seats next to them, the ones reserved for Santana’s family, were still empty. 

She looked around backstage to see all the different glee clubs mingling around, soaking in the atmosphere. Her eyes automatically scanned the room for Santana and it took only seconds to spot her off to the side, talking to Quinn with a serious look on her face. _Wonder what that’s all about,_ she thought before focusing back on the audience. 

_There. Finally. Thank you, Cheesus._ A happy little grin spread over her face and she turned to walk over to Santana. 

////////////////

“Hey, Santana,” Quinn said with a smile. “Not sure we should be talking to each other this close to the competition. Isn’t that bad mojo or something like that?” She winked but to her surprise Santana just scowled at her. “Okay,” she drawled, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you blackmailing my favorite teacher, Fabray?” Santana asked bluntly.

“What?”

“Did you threaten to tell people about Ms. Corcoran and Puck?”

Quinn shook her head. “I told you I’m over that whole thing. Why?” Santana studied Quinn for long moments before her anger receded. She really hadn’t wanted to have to hate her friend again. Quinn held her eyes. “What happened?” she asked again.

“Ms. Corcoran is leaving McKinley,” Santana explained. “She said she couldn’t have the threat of exposure hanging over her or something like that.” She sighed. “I told her it’s not necessary … fuck, we all know it was probably all Puck taking advantage anyway, even if she’s an adult, you know how he is.” She and Quinn shared a knowing grin.

“That sucks,” Quinn agreed, “but she is probably just doing what she thinks is right.”

Santana scowled some more. “Really? And will you also think that when suddenly Rachel’s mother disappears from her life again? When Beth is gone from your life completely?” Her voice was hard. “’Cause that’s what’s going to happen, Quinn. The woman leaving is not just the only teacher who ever cared enough to teach me anything, she’s also your daughter’s adoptive mother … and your girlfriend’s mother. Think about that. Weird as it is.”

Quinn swallowed. “I know all that, Santana,” she said quietly. “But I can’t believe she’d completely vanish from our lives. At least I hope not.” She touched Santana’s arm. “And I’m sorry that she’s leaving the Troubletones, I really am.”

Santana snorted. “You should be,” she said, “because when we beat you tonight and you’re joining our little glee club after that, you won’t get to experience her _amazing_ teaching any more.” She paused. “Although her replacement might be a nice surprise.”

“So you think _you’re_ going to win tonight? And you’d want us to join the Troubletones?”

“Absolutely. Oh, and girls only.”

“It’s on.”

////////////////

Santana ran straight into Brittany who had apparently been waiting for her to finish her talk with Quinn. “What’s up, San?” she asked with a nod at Quinn’s back.

“Long story,” Santana sighed. “I’ll tell you once we have a little privacy, okay?” She leaned over to kiss her girlfriend. “What’s up with you? You’re all bouncy and excited.”

“I know!” Brittany exclaimed. “I gotta show you something, come on.” With that she dragged Santana over to the side of the stage, from where they could easily see the audience. “See over there?” She pointed towards their families’ seats, now actually bouncing on her toes.

Santana gave Brittany an indulgent look before following her index finger to try and see what had her so excited. She gasped, quietly, when she found her targets. There, sitting next to Brittany’s family, were her mother and father … and her grandmother, a dour look on her face. “I can’t believe it,” she breathed.

“Right? Isn’t it great?” Brittany hugged her fiercely. “I knew she’d come!”

_Yeah, under duress and after some nicely crafted blackmail from my mother._ Santana decided to keep her thoughts to herself and just hugged Brittany a little tighter. _Well, at least for once my whole family is here to see me perform on stage. That’s gotta mean something._ It didn’t occur to her to find it strange that she included Brittany’s parents and sister in that statement. 

“Wanna go talk to them?” Brittany’s enthusiasm was contagious, but anything Santana could have done or said was interrupted by the emcee taking center stage and opening the night’s competition.

“No time,” Santana whispered. “We need to get ready.”

“Okay,” Brittany agreed easily. “We’ll see them after we win anyway.” With that she dragged Santana towards the other Troubletones. 

////////////////

Santana barely had time to brace herself before Brittany jumped into her arms. “We won, San!” the blonde yelled. “I knew we’d win this.”

“Hell to the yes,” Mercedes chimed in while the rest of the Troubletones danced and jumped all around them.

The only one not jumping was Sugar who was sitting on the floor, lovingly cradling the huge trophy in her arms and smiling at the world. 

“You okay, Sugar?” Mercedes asked her after a few moments. 

Sugar nodded. “I finally won something,” she muttered. “I belong to a group of people who love me and I won something.” She smiled at Mercedes, Santana and Brittany, not even registering their synchronized eye rolls. “Isn’t this fantastic? Dinner for all of us and our families is on me!”

“Yay!” Brittany whooped and the four of them hugged. Santana looked over Brittany’s shoulder and met Ms. Corcoran’s eyes for a moment. Their musical director gave her a huge smile and a nod before being distracted by a tall, blonde woman who threw herself into her arms.

Santana grinned and pressed a kiss to Brittany’s cheek, remembering what that particular blonde woman had done for them. Brittany looked up and at Santana’s nod towards the wings, followed her girlfriend’s gaze. “Is that Ms. Holiday?” Brittany whispered. When Santana nodded, Brittany searched her face. “Is that part of the long story you still need to tell me?”

“Yes, it is,” Santana said. “I’ll tell you all about it later, but first—”

“Breadstix!”

_One day,_ Santana thought with a wry grin, _I’ll end up deaf._

////////////////

The Breadstix parking lot was filling up quickly and people were laughing and celebrating as they walked towards the restaurant doors, ignoring the obstinate-looking older woman and her companions standing next to a black Mercedes.

“I am not going inside that restaurant to celebrate,” Carmen Lopez stated for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Oh yes, you are,” Maria replied calmly. “Remember our deal?”

“I was supposed to go to the concert, which I did,” the older Lopez huffed. “You didn’t say anything about spending time with that deviant daughter of yours.”

Maria Lopez shot her husband a look, silently urging him to say something. She rolled her eyes when he tried to avoid her gaze, but just as she was opening her mouth to give her mother-in-law another piece of her mind, Antonio suddenly spoke. “Mother, God knows I love you, but if you don’t go in there and be nice to my daughter, I’m going to kick you out myself.”

Carmen’s eyes widened. “Tonio! You wouldn’t!”

Antonio nodded grimly. “Watch me,” he said quietly. “I’ve had enough of you imposing your outdated values on our life. This ends now.” He shook his finger in her face. “You either accept your wonderful granddaughter for the person she is or you leave our lives. Comprende?” He took his wife’s hand with his free one. “If you can’t accept Santana and be sincere about it, she’ll be a lot better off not having you in her life at all, although she loves you dearly and would miss you. As would we.”

Maria smiled at her husband. _Finally._ “I guess I can cancel the spine-replacement surgery for you then, huh?” she muttered so only he could hear. She turned to her mother-in-law. “It’s love, Carmen,” she said imploringly. “What can be wrong with love?”

Carmen’s face was inscrutable. “I don’t know that I can do it,” she finally said. “But I will go in there and try.”

“You will try and withhold any judgmental remarks,” Antonio amended. His mother nodded. “Okay, let’s go celebrate then.”

None of their faces looked the least bit festive when they entered Breadstix, which is how Annie Pierce spotted them. She rushed over at once. “Hey, Mari, Tonio.” She hugged Maria and Antonio and completely ignored Carmen. “Look, you have about three seconds to start looking happy because Santana and Brittany will see right through that little family act you’re pulling here, if you don’t.”

Maria laughed bitterly. “Knowing Brittany, she’ll see through it no matter what.” She still wasn’t happy with her mother-in-law.” “But I am happy for Santana and Brittany and the rest of the girls,” she said with a smile, “and I am going to celebrate!” She dragged Annie over to the bar to get some liquid fortification into her system.

As soon as she had her son alone, Carmen turned to him. “Tonio, what happened to you?” she asked, voice shaky. “I raised you to be a good Catholic man and now you’re defending this … behavior?”

“God is love, remember?” he said earnestly. “And who are we mortals to say what kinds of love are right or wrong?” He smiled. “I remember that you told me once that your father didn’t want you to marry dad because he was not right for you. You married him anyway because it was _right for you_.” 

He searched her eyes for any sign he was getting through to her. “Santana loves you, you’re her abuela, and what you’re doing right now is hurting her. But she and Brittany belong together and everyone but you can see that.” Carmen’s face lost nothing of its hardness. “Watch them tonight, watch them together. _See_ them and keep an open mind.”

With that, he turned and followed his wife to the bar, where Annie handed him a shot of tequila without asking.

////////////////

“Dear Troubletones, ladies and gentlemen, welcome.” Mr. Motta’s voice over the microphone silenced the room. “This is a beautiful night, isn’t it? The Troubletones won Sectionals tonight, and they’ll go on to win even more!” He smiled broadly at the cheers from both Troubletones and family members.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “Shelby Corcoran, who shaped our girls into the winners they are, won’t be there to guide them along the way due to personal reasons and different commitments. But she already found someone to take over.” 

There were disappointed groans from all the Troubletones spread across the room, and one moan from Shelby Corcoran. This was _not_ how she had wanted to share her news. 

Brittany turned towards Santana. “You knew.” Santana nodded and watched Brittany think. “And Ms. Holiday is going to take over.” It was a statement, not a question. Santana nodded again. “That’s good,” Brittany continued with a smile. “Not that Ms. Corcoran is leaving,” she amended after a second, “but that we don’t have to go back to Mr. Shue.” 

Santana laughed out loud. “So true, and I’m kinda happy that Ms. Holiday is back.”

“What’s Ms. Corcoran going to do?”

“Don’t know, she hasn’t told me,” Santana admitted. “I’m not sure she knows yet.”

Brittany studied her face. “You _are_ going to tell me the rest of this story later.”

They turned to the makeshift stage again when Shelby Corcoran took over the microphone from Mr. Motta. “First of all,” she started, “I am so very, very proud of you ladies. You rocked this show today!”

Cheers erupted.

“Now for the other thing,” Shelby continued. “Mr. Motta was right: unfortunately I will have to leave Lima and won’t be able to work with you any longer.” At the sounds of protest, she held up her hands. “I’m so sorry, but it’s the way it has to be.”

“Bullshit,” Santana muttered under her breath.

“The good news is that an old friend agreed to take over for me, and most of you already know her.” She pointed to Holly Holiday who stood up from her seat at the bar and walked over.

“The cucumber lady!” Mercedes blurted with a cheeky grin and everyone laughed.

“Indeed,” Holly Holiday said. “Hello, Mercedes. Don’t worry, we won’t be using cucumbers for microphones.” She winked at Mercedes, then smiled at the whole room. “Hello, Troubletones!” she yelled.

Santana smiled. _Looks like it’s not going to be much of a problem._

////////////////

It was about an hour later when Shelby Corcoran and Holly Holiday finally made it round to where Santana and Brittany were standing in a corner, talking quietly.

“Hey, ladies,” Shelby greeted them. “Mind of we interrupt for a second?”

“Hello, Ms. Corcoran,” Brittany said with a smile. “I’m happy you’re back, Ms. Holiday. I just wish you’d both be here.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and looked at her shoes.

“Brittany,” Shelby coaxed. “I’m glad you’re happy Holly is taking over,” she said gently, “and I have no intention of breaking off contact with you completely. Especially not with you, Brittany.” She waited until Brittany’s eyes met hers. “I expect to see you in New York in the summer. You have a career to start.”

“You’re going back to New York?” Santana asked.

“Yeah.” Shelby nodded. “I think that’s best for everyone.”

“Maybe,” Santana agreed. “Maybe not.”

“Santana,” Shelby muttered. “You know why I have to leave.” She pulled both girls into a hug. “I’ll see you both in New York next year, okay?”

Brittany sniffled. “Okay, Ms. Corcoran.”

Shelby let go of the girls. “Call me Shelby.”

“Shelby,” Santana said with a smile, testing out using the name to the woman’s face. It didn’t feel wrong.

“Sooo,” Holly said brightly, “you girls finally managed to get your act together and figure out what you are to each other.”

Brittany grabbed Santana’s hand and linked their fingers. “Yes, although it took a little while.” She looked at her girlfriend. “We never got to thank you though.”

“You’re welcome,” Holly said. “You can pay me back by being awesome and help us win Nationals with the Troubletones.”

“Santana,” Shelby interrupted. “Who’s that woman over there? She’s been glaring at you for a while now.”

Santana turned around to see where Shelby’s head was turned. “Oh,” she breathed. “That’s my grandmother.”

“She doesn’t look like a particularly happy person,” Holly remarked.

“That’s cause she’s not,” Brittany mumbled quietly. “She hates that Santana is gay and she’s the reason Santana can’t go home at the moment.”

“You’re not living with your parents?” Holly asked. “Where are you staying?”

Santana didn’t take her eyes off her grandmother who was still staring at them with an unreadable expression on her face. Brittany answered for her. “She’s staying with me for now.”

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, then Holly decided to act. She walked over to Santana’s grandmother. “Oh God, not again,” Shelby breathed and Santana wondered what she meant.

“Hello,” Holly greeted Carmen Lopez, her voice friendly. “I’m Holly Holiday, pleased to meet you.” Carmen just looked at her, ignoring the teacher’s outstretched hand. “You were watching us this whole time,” Holly continued, “and I didn’t know if you were just shy or didn’t want to interrupt our conversation.” She leaned in closer. “You know, it’s perfectly fine if you want to go over there to congratulate Santana and her girlfriend on a very fine performance tonight.”

“This is none of your business,” the older woman said hoarsely.

Holly’s voice turned steely, although her smile never left her face. “Oh, but it is,” she said. “Santana and Brittany are two wonderful girls who happen to love each other,” she added. “And you need to leave them alone, if you can’t accept them for who they are.” She got right into Carmen’s face. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me,” she whispered, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t be protecting Santana and Brittany from a bigoted little old lady like you.” Her face hadn’t lost its smile the whole time.

Carmen spluttered. “This is none of your concern. Why are you threatening me?”

“Am I?” Holly asked innocently. “Hm, …” She turned around to walk back to Shelby and the girls, leaving a very angry woman behind.

“What are you doing, Hol?” Shelby asked through clenched teeth.

“Me? Nothing.” Holly turned around once again to stare at Carmen Lopez. “Nothing at all.”

Carmen turned around and left.

  
  
**Three weeks later**

“San,” Brittany said with a pout. “Are you sure you want to go back to live with your parents?” She watched as Santana put a few more clothes into a duffle bag. “Don’t you like it here?”

Santana turned around and pulled her girlfriend into her arms. “You know I love being with you all the time, Britt,” she said, her voice muffled against blonde hair. “But now that my grandma moved out, my parents want me back, and you know … that’s a good feeling, too.” She kissed Brittany’s head. “They promised you could come over and stay over whenever you like. They’re not going to keep us apart. They know I love you.”

“I know,” Brittany sighed. And she did know because both families had sat down together to talk about everything the night before, and both sets of parents had promised solemnly to let nothing get in the way of their relationship. “How about I come with you?” Brittany asked. “We could stay at your house one week and here the next.”

Santana chuckled. “Let’s just see how it goes tonight, okay?” She knew that it would probably end up exactly like Brittany had just laid it out because it was what Brittany wanted. Brittany almost always got what she wanted, and it wasn’t like Santana would mind an arrangement like that either.

“You’re going to keep wearing your ring?” Brittany asked, touching the metal band on Santana’s finger.

“Of course I am … why would I take off my … engagement ring?” Santana held her breath. She hadn’t called it that since the night Brittany sort of proposed to her, but she knew Brittany needed reassurance and if she were honest it was how she felt about their rings too.

Brittany pulled back to look into Santana’s eyes with a cheeky grin. “Does that mean I can finally start calling the rings that?” she whispered with a smile. “And I can tell people?” 

Santana’s only reply was a gentle kiss that quickly turned more heated. “When did you say Quinn and Rachel would be here for dinner?” she huffed breathlessly when they parted.

“Six or so,” Brittany replied, already leaning in for another kiss.

“Wanna spend an hour doing better things than packing?” Santana mumbled against Brittany’s lips, hands already pulling at Brittany’s uniform.

Brittany just kicked the door shut and pulled Santana over to the bed. 

Annie Pierce looked up from her crossword puzzle when the door slammed. “Here we go again,” she mumbled.

////////////////

A few blocks away, Rachel turned to Quinn as they were cuddled together on Quinn’s bed. “Shouldn’t we get ready to go over to Brittany’s house?” Her voice was still a little breathless.

Quinn breathed in deeply, enjoying their mingled scents. “Rach, Santana’s moving back to her parents’ house today,” she said as she gently pushed a lock of slightly damp hair behind her girlfriend’s ear. “I can’t imagine they want us to be on time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Any idea what we could do in the meantime?”

“Oh, yeah.”

**The End**


End file.
